


fish out of water

by shinsxoh



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Ambiguous/Open Ending, First Love, M/M, Slow Burn, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-04-20 05:45:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14254269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinsxoh/pseuds/shinsxoh
Summary: “You don’t know who I am?” The Prince asked, more than a little confused now. “My name is Hyunwoo. I’m twelve years old, and I’m the Crown Prince.”"Nice to meet you, Hyunwoo," The strange boy smiled and held out his hand. "I'm also twelve. Not a Crown Prince, just a boy."





	1. the boy with purple hair

**Author's Note:**

> very loosely based on the dramarama mv.  
> i know next to nothing about traditional korean history. i have done research, but creative licence has been taken.  
> enjoy <3

Every morning Hyunwoo came to the logical conclusion that being a Crown Prince was decidedly more exciting when read about in war accounts.

He had walked the garden path so many times that summer he was sure he could do it in his sleep and yet, every day, without fail, he was awoken by dressing servants at the first quarter of sunrise and dressed for another routine promenade.

His father led the procession that day - not carried on his usual seat but shaded by a parasol held by his favourite eunuch - and Hyunwoo followed close behind, his pointed shoes catching on the silk hem of his hanbok with each tottering step. It had been almost five minutes since he'd stumbled on the stone path that weaved through the bamboo garden but as it was fate was not on his side that early morning. Distracted by the blossom of one of the flowers growing in the dirt-beds, the toe of his shoe wedged itself in a groove between the rocks and he fell forward with a gasp, tugging on his father's hanbok with his outstretched hands to stop himself from falling.

“Sorry father,” Hyunwoo scrambled to his feet and gave a quick bow. “I'm sorry. I'm trying, I really am.”

“Hyunwoo,” the stern voice said from above. “Look at me when you address me.”

“Yes Father. Sorry father.”

When Hyunwoo lifted his eyes he was expecting to encounter a harsh gaze and cold tone. To his surprise that wasn’t the case at all - in fact, his father had crouched in front of him, royal hanbok and all, just so he could level a kind stare.

“I accept your apology, little Prince.” His father smiled in understanding and relief flooded Hyunwoo’s small body. “How have those Bongtoogi lessons been going?”

“You mean the stick fighting ones?” His voice raised in excitement at the mention of his new hobby. “Pretty well Father. I know the basic positions now, and next week if Teacher Kim says it's okay I can start to spar!”

The man with his long hair scraped back from his weathered face gave a kind smile, and Hyunwoo felt his chest puff out with joy when his father readjusted the knot of his gorem for him. “I can see you're going to be a great fighter one day, little Prince. You've only tripped up twice this walk.”

And with that the old man resumed his formal position meandering down the path, leaving Hyunwoo to straighten up with pride and begin to follow after him, hands placed behind his back just like his father had shown.

They walked for as long as it took the sun to rise past mid-morning and the shadows to shorten from daylight. The temperature was quick to rise and leave little beads of sweat rolled down his tan skin and collect under his knotted hair. All his father's waiting ladies had told him to stay out of sunlight as his pigment was darker than most of the royal family but the little Prince didn't care about that, he just found himself staring longingly at the shadows of the woods to his side in vague hope to escape the unbearable sun even when blocked by a parasol.

It was this fascination with the forest that caused him to stop dead in his tottering tracks.

There was something moving in the forest to his side, he was sure of it.

The path was framed by neat sticks of bamboo and Hyunwoo squinted past the smooth poles in an attempt to catch the shifting shadow deeper in the wooded garden. It was impossible to see past the green foliage and yet the Crown Prince was sure he'd seen somebody move.

Despite the fact that it was probably a gardener tending to the undergrowth on an early summer's morning, he found himself innately curious. The woods were scary. Even the woods in royal grounds. He rarely ventured off the path unless it was with an attendant, and seeing the dappled sunlight fall gently through the thick shadows of the canopy above did nothing to ease his jittery nerves. Had he really seen something out there? Was he just imagining things?

And then Hyunwoo gasped. There was a boy out there! He was sure the shadow that moved had been the same shape as him, darting between one tree trunk to another.

“Father, look!” He called, pointing out into the dense foliage and almost tottering over onto the ground with his enthusiasm. No reply came. When he turned to motion for his procession once more, his face grew worried as he saw them so far down the pathway he could no longer hear their voices.

As Hyunwoo watched with wide guilty eyes, the parasol of the last eunuch rounded the corner and disappeared from sight. He was alone.

Hyunwoo turned back to the side of the path with a frown. Should he follow after his father, or the stranger he had seen in the forest?

One look wouldn’t hurt, right?

Hyunwoo hiked up his hanbok to reveal the expensive blue shimmer of his baji underneath and, after one look back to where the royal procession had fallen out of sight, hurried into the forest lead by the pointed hooks of his sandals laced with embroidery.

The cool, dewy air settled on his skin almost immediately and he was happy for the comfort as he picked his way across the soft mossy floor. It was startlingly quiet the way the leaves of the woods enclosed him and blocked out the sound of the path only a few meters away. It felt as if he had stepped into another world, one of serene comfort, filled with pretty patterns of sunlight and the smell of moss and grass.

“Ah!”

Hyunwoo had no time to react to the loud shout that came from his side as his entire being was knocked sideways by a heavy shove. His hands shot out to catch his fall instinctively, and much like before when he’d tripped on the path he stumbled over the hems of his Hanbok and landed on the damp forest floor with a painful thud.

“Oh dear!” he gasped, his bottom lip wobbling as he scrambled to his feet and began looking around in panic. “Come out now, whoever you are! I’m the Crown Prince, you’re not meant to- you’re not meant to hurt the Crown Prince-”

“I’m sorry.” The small voice stopped him from his rant and he looked around in even more confusion. “I thought you were an Official.”

“My Hanbok!” Hyunwoo found himself distracted from the disembodied voice as he looked down at his stained attire in despair. His hands were grazed, and tears welled up in his eyes as he attempted to wipe off the mud smeared on the expensive silk with already dirtied fingers. He was vaguely aware of the sound of gentle footsteps to his right but none of that mattered when he was in such distress. “It’s ruined. It was my father's favourite!”

“I’m really sorry.” The warm voice sounded more than a little distraught and it was definitely closer now. “Really, I’m so sorry. I thought you were an adult, I was so scared you’d catch me-”

“Catch you? Whatever do you mean, catch you! I just wondered who you were- _oh_.”

His voice cut short abruptly.

Hyunwoo had finally looked up and, upon seeing the other person stood in front of him, had lost all ability to breathe.

The strange boy looked at him with what seemed like fear when he noticed Hyunwoo staring at him. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Hyunwoo simply gaped at him.

The Crown Prince was dreaming, he was sure of it.

The boy wasn’t some village child he had supposed upon first encounter. No, it seemed he was some kind of foreigner, for his clothes were odd and made of a thick rough fabric similar to rope bindings or heavy rugs. He wore multiple layers - an incredible feat for the hot summers of Korea - consisting of black clothing hung with what looked like decorational straps and unusual shiny divots laced down the front. The prince’s confusion only grew when he took note of the way his baji were not really baji at all, instead they looked unnatural and rough drawn in at the ankle, littered with pockets and tucked over clunky, dirty shoes that resembled no colourful slipper he had ever seen.

However, there was one final startling thing that truly struck fear into Hyunwoo’s young heart.

The stranger's hair was bright purple, and shorn off around the ears.

“Who are you?” he whispered, taking a step back out of fear of the unknown. Never before had he heard of a man with hair so short and the colour of Hibiscus blooming in spring or royal fabric lovingly dyed by wrinkled hands. It was unnatural. Terrifying.

The boy simply looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. At least they were the normal brown, Hyunwoo thought in relief. “Who are you?” he asked in return. His words were quite heavily accented and yet resembled no dialect Hyunwoo was familiar with - they were far too casual, far too slurred for him to understand clearly.

“You don’t know who I am?” The Prince asked, more than a little confused now. “My name is Hyunwoo. I’m twelve years old, and I’m the Crown Prince.”

"Nice to meet you, Hyunwoo," The strange boy smiled and held out his hand. "I'm also twelve. Not a Crown Prince, just a boy."  
  
Hyunwoo stared at his hand in confusion. What did this short-haired boy want, in his peculiar clothes and vibrant hair, by sticking out his hand? Was it some kind of greeting he didn't know of?  
  
"Your hair is strange," Hyunwoo frowned, suddenly distracted by the way the purple strands caught the sunlight being filtered through the canopy of trees. He was both intrigued and a little scared by such unusual occurrences. Purple hair didn't exist in real life. Purple was only for royal hanboks, or woman's embroidery.  
  
The boy shrugged and touched his head with a dirt-covered hand. "I dye it."  
  
Hyunwoo grew even more confused. "Like fabric?"  
  
"Yes, like fabric," he giggled. "You can do that in the future. You can do a lot of stuff in the future. Like.. like fly in aeroplanes. Or microwave food. Or cure cancer, or travel to space, or- or fight robots, or- or even time travel!"  
  
Hyunwoo looked at the strange boy. Why did he say such foreign words? He hadn't ever heard of an Aeroplane before, and what was a Robot?

“What's an Aeroplane?” he asked simply.

The boy giggled again. His eyes scrunched up and gums appeared to reveal a set of teeth so straight and white Hyunwoo was blinded. “It's a flying machine!”

“A flying machine?” This was all too confusing for the Prince. What was a _machine_? Why was this strange boys Korean so full of foreign words and yet he sounded fluent? What did he mean, he was from the future? “Can you fly?”

“Not on my own, you Pod!” he scoffed, his musical giggle making Hyunwoo’s heart skip a beat. “The Government banned jetpacks in twenty-thirty-five, couldn't figure out how to stop people dying."

None of what he was saying made any sense but there was a building of excitement in his stomach as the foreign words flew past him, the muddying of his Hanbok all but forgotten. He wanted to understand the odd way this boy was talking. Was he really from the future? “What’s a.. Puh..Pod?” he asked, slightly more enthused than before.

“It’s like.. Like a future bad word,” the boy with the purple hair giggled before his voice grew earnest. “It comes from like.. The people who stay in Pod hotels instead of buying apartments ‘cos the price of living is too much.”  
  
“You say such strange words, strange boy,” Hyunwoo let his mouth curl into a small smile. He had been gone for so long his father was bound to come looking for him, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. "If you're really from the future, prove it.”  
  
The stranger knit his brow together. "What?"

“My father said I shouldn't trust anybody until they can prove what they say.” Hyunwoo said pointedly, straightening up and folding his hands like he’d been taught was been proper by his assistants. “Why should I trust somebody as strange as you, without reason behind it?”

“My hair is purple,’ the boy said in disbelief, as if that explained everything. Hyunwoo simply shrugged.

“You put fabric dye in it,” he countered.

“My clothes have zips.”

“Some contraption imported from the West.”

The boy pouted, seemingly perturbed by his stubbornness, before his face lit up and he pulled back the right sleeve of his rough fabriced clothes. “I can prove it with this!”

“What's that?” Hyunwoo’s voice grew wary as the boy started fiddling with the clasp of some strange material that seemed to emit a light much like the lamps at his Hanok.

“A projector! You slot in what you wanna see here-” The boy seemed to shake something in his hand before he held it up briefly. It was black, about the size of a bead on a woman's Jeogori but flat and glinting dully in the filtered sunlight of the forest. Hyunwoo stared at it in perplexity before watching as the boy’s pale hand slot it into the side of the odd contraption. “-and it'll show the hologram here!”

At first nothing happened. There came the distant sound of a bubbling stream and the dead wind gently blew the scent of bamboo across his skin. In fact, the silence lasted for just long to enough to convince Hyunwoo that he had gone mad.

And then, all of a sudden, something _did_ happen.

Hyunwoo found himself stumbling backwards in utter surprise as strange beams of light shot from his wrist garment and fixated in the air. In fact, he was so terrified he opened his mouth to yell for help until he saw the proud grin on the stranger’s face.

“What, are you scared, Crown Prince?” The purple haired boy laughed and motioned with the hand not held out in front of him. “Come here, they won’t hurt you!”

Hyunwoo’s eyes flicked briefly from his warm brown ones to the strange display of light hovering in the air, and just as he decided that he needed to find his father before he was driven insane, the display seemed to shift and break and reform into a million different colours before eventually colliding to form the shape of two fish.

Two Koi fish, made of light, swimming in the air above him.

Hyunwoo was dreaming. He was sure he was.

“You’re a Shaman, aren’t you?” He whispered in fascination, bundling his hanbok into his little fists and stepping forward to observe the Koi fish more closely. Their backs shimmered with sunset oranges and glittery reds, and he flinched instinctively when one turned to look at him before floating around in the circle it swum in. How was it breathing? Fish died when you took them out of water, Hyunwoo knew that for a fact. “You’re some kind of.. Of spirit believer from the folklore mountains right? Can you do Chukjibup? My father told me of those who could- who could walk a hundred miles in one step-”

“It’s not magic, you Pod Prince,” The boy from the future giggled and when Hyunwoo’s eyes caught on his face he saw how he watched the fish swim with a childlike wonder of a twelve year old boy much like himself. “Magic isn’t real. It’s technology.”

“Tech-noh-low-gy?” The word was thick and foreign on his tongue.

“Yes, Technology. Like.. computers and microchips and networks and stuff,” He explained as he gestured to the mechanism on his wrist. “So like.. there are circuits in here, right? And the electricity flows through them, takes the code embedded in the chip and then projects it using LEDs.”

“I don't understand.” Hyunwoo breathed, watching the flickering koi fish swim in the air. Each time they reached the edge of the strange light the beams wobbled before they made a turn, the edges of the moving creatures blurred into little blocks of light that moved as they did. It was absolutely beautiful.

It was magic. This boy he’d met in the palace grounds was _magic_.

All of a sudden a quiet ring seemed to sound from underneath fabric and Hyunwoo momentarily pulled his gaze away from the fish to watch the boy’s eyes grow wide with fear. “Oh no. I need to go.”

“Can't you stay for a little while?”

“I wish I could, I really do.” The purple haired boy swiped a finger over the strange contraption on his wrist and the gentle Koi fish flickered out of existence. Their disappearance was disappointing to Hyunwoo - he wanted to watch the fish swim out of water once more. “I'm not meant to talk to anybody you see. It could ruin the future, so- so I have to go. Time travel is illegal anyway.”

“Time travel is illegal?”

“Yes. If somebody found out, if they took my watch, I-” The boy choked on his own words and he shook his head as if to clear the thought from his mind. “I don't know what would happen.”

The stranger rolled up the edge of his strangely fabriced baji and unhooked what looked like a complicated sun dial from his ankle. No longer muffled by fabric, the contraption seemed to make an even louder sharp ring at regular intervals.

“What’s that?” asked Hyunwoo, intrigued by yet another weird invention.

“A watch,” Came the hurried reply. “It’s meant to tell the time but- but this one is modified, done by See-Aech-Double-Yoo himself.”

The nonsensical words were beyond the little Crown Prince, and yet his searching eyes were quick to see something spill from the pocket of the stranger. With a frown Hyunwoo hiked up his hanbok and picked up the little piece with his chubby hands. It lay cold in the flat of his palm and he stared at it with childlike wonder - this was the strange object that held the light of the swimming fish. “Can I keep this?”

“If you promise not to let anybody see,” The frantic boy straightened up, holding the clunky object he’d called a ‘Watch’ in his small hands and fiddling with strange dials on the side.

“I promise. Will you come back?”

“Maybe. Maybe, I might.”

“If you really are magic, can’t you just skip to the next time we meet?” he asked curiously.

“It doesn't work like that. You have to align crossover points or it you’ll be lost in some other time-” There came another loud bell noise and the strangers’ face grew even more distraught. “Oh no. Oh no, Chae is calling. Government inspection. I have to go. My own timeline, I- I'll see you later Hyunwoo. Maybe. Maybe-”

“ _Crown Prince_!” There came a distant muffled shout from the path clearing behind them both. “ _Your Majesty, where are you? The procession is waiting_!”

“Oh dear, I have to go too,” Hyunwoo said in distress, watching as the other boy with him took a few hurried steps back from the sound of adult voices. “Wait! Strange boy, from the future. What is your name?”

“Hoseok!” Called the purple-haired boy from where he had retreated further into the woods. “My name is Shin Hoseok!”

“Goodbye Hoseok!” The Crown Prince shouted, copying the same hand gesture he’d seen him perform a few minutes ago when they met. “Please come back! I want to see the magic fish again!”

Hoseok’s face softened and he let out a loud giggle, waving enthusiastically with the flat of his palm. “See you later, Crown Prince! Take care of my fish for me!”

And then, as if he were magic, the boy simply disappeared.

Hyunwoo stared at where he had vanished in complete wonder. The light around him had seemed to bend momentarily, forcing the backdrop to curve around his frame until he was no longer there, leaving just a quiet forest with the smell of early morning dew still lingering in the air as the summer sun was hidden by a canopy of leaves.

“ _Crown Prince_!”

The call from behind him grew more frantic and Hyunwoo hurried to tuck the flat little object he’d been given into the embroidered hem of his hanbok, just where it crossed and knotted over his small chest, before scampering across the mossy forest floor and stumbling back out onto the path, leaving the encounter with Hoseok behind him.

“Sorry, Eunuch.” He gave a deep, levelling bow when he immediately caught sight of the elderly man draped in soft green robes standing at the end of the pathway. “I was distracted by the flowers of the forest. They are such lovely colours this summer.”

“You are dirty.” The wrinkled man deadpanned and all Hyunwoo could do was grimace at the state of his silk clothes and force another sheepish bow at the scolding. “Crown Prince, you must learn to focus. How will you ever be better than the great kings before you if you get distracted by such pretty things?”

“I’m sorry, Eunuch,” he stared at the ground and folded his grazed hands behind his back in a sign of obedience. “I won’t get distracted by pretty things any longer.”

Despite his words, however, little Hyunwoo stayed distracted the entire procession back to the Hanoks, and he could barely focus through his later lessons, fidgeting during a Council with his father and itching to return to his own room. The events from the late morning had ran through his mind all day, pulling at his thoughts and picking at his mind until he was sure he would explode. Occasionally the hard wedge of material shoved into the hem of his clothing would nip at his skin and he had to contain his giddiness, for he had just met a boy from the future and he had given him a gift to take care of.

Later that night, upon bidding farewell to his father and leaving him to discuss matters with the elders about politics he was too young to understand, Hyunwoo pulled the little slate from the hem of his jokki vest and held it in his palm by the light of the lamp that burned just beside the wooden centerpiece of his room. He usually knelt there to practice his calligraphy late into the quiet night but, with the cicadas chirping outside and the gentle glow of fire, he held the small piece of black material delicately in his palm and let a smile form on his face.

There were two pretty Koi fish trapped within the foreign object held in his hand. The boy from the future with bright purple hair had told him to take care of them, and he would do just that.

He hoped Hoseok came back soon. He wanted to see the fish swim again.


	2. a gift of friendship

The next day Hyunwoo sat through a morning congregation restless, sweat beading on his neck and chubby fingers fiddling with the hem of his hanbok, waiting for the daily walk through the gardens in tow of his father with newfound excitement.

He spent the entire procession peering into the bamboo forest with wide, searching eyes, willing there to be a flash of purple moving through the undergrowth just like the day before.

Hoseok wasn’t there.

He did the same the next day, and the next. When he asked his father if he could explore the gardens that evening as well, the old man looked at him with a wrinkled brow from where he had been dictating to a scribe and told him that, should he wish to start taking an interest in the grounds, he was free to explore as he pleased with the attendance of at least three servants.

That evening Hyunwoo walked the garden path two whole times but he did not find his friend.

What started as him looking for the strange boy with purple hair who could make fish fly turned into a hobby - something less unreal and more grounded. He began to take great pleasure in walking through the garden grounds, and his back grew straighter everytime his Father praised him for his endeavours.

As Hyunwoo grew older, he began to forget. Weeks passed. Then months. Then years. On the day he celebrated his thirteenth summer alive, he couldn't recall the colour of Hoseok's clothes. By the fourteenth year of his life he had forgotten the sound of his voice, and when he turned fifteen he wondered if he even existed at all. Were the flying fish just a dream? Was it an omen of some future encounter as king?

He still walked the gardens in the early light of morning but it was not to go searching for fantasies.

As he aged he began to learn what it was to be Crown Prince and let go of his childlike wonder. He stopped looking for flashes of purple hair cut short in the bushes and started seeking allies in his father's court, learning what it meant to talk and negotiate and avoid political mishap.

Slowly but surely, he found himself in the beautiful art of Bootoongi, practicing on most days and training through every morning. His father praised him for his effort, waiting ladies praised him for his physique, and his trainer praised him for each match won. Those around him said he would be a great king in the future, and he told himself that the strange boy he met at twelve was merely a figment of his imagination and that to be distracted by it would make him less of a successor. He was soon to be king. He could not be lost in the past when his future looked so bright.

At some point he requested a little pocket to be sewn into the hem of each of his Hanboks, where the fabrics crossed and the silk lay above his heart. He told the weaving women it was for jewellery.

The small black piece was the only thing he had to remind himself that what happened was real.

It fit the pocket perfectly.

Sometimes he'd hold it in his hand late at night and inspect every ridge and bump and groove whittled into the object until it was committed to memory. He knew two koi fish lived within the material, and he had promised to take care of them.

He may not have believed Hoseok was real anymore, he may have been convinced that the searing heat of the Korean summer caused his brain to imagine such delusions of a boy with purple hair, but still. His attendants taught him not to be distracted by such pretty things as women and jewellery, but they never said anything about Koi fish.

He was nineteen years old when he next met the boy from the future.

The day had been long and Hyunwoo was tired.

After an early start to bid farewell to the aristocratic visitors of the richest influence family, the Crown Prince had spent many hours practicing Bongtoogi alone in the absence of his trainer. The calluses on his hands were worn stiff and red from the tightened grasp he’d held - something he’d have to work on later, no doubt - and he’d worked until the sun had caused his body to rain with sweat and stain the wooden floor.

His evening had consisted of lessons, a dinner with his father and then a tour of the new stables. By the time he wearily strode into the cool room of his Hanok and bid his servants goodnight his whole body felt as if it could drop from exhaustion at any moment. After a second of silence in which the door closed behind him and Hyunwoo was left in peaceful isolation he began to pull at the hem of his Hanbok and stretch his shoulders into relaxation.

And then there was a blade pressed against his throat.

Immediately, he knew it was a plot for assassination. Being the Crown Prince came with more risks than benefits, and while Hyunwoo was lenient with his open windows and trust in his servants, the sudden cutting of cool metal against his throat and a firm arm wrapped around his torso was enough to have his heart skyrocketing and his body tensed to fight. He thought he was going to die, and he wished beyond everything that his father could escape the palace grounds before this horrible person got to him too. The kingdom could find another Prince but not another king.

The intruder did not say a word.

Warm breath tickled his ear. The sharp edge of whatever sword he held gripped in his hand cut so far into his neck Hyunwoo was sure he’d start bleeding and yet nothing else seemed to happen. Hyunwoo held his breath, frozen, whole body throbbing with adrenaline and mind racing as the quiet of the night in his room grew suffocating and he vaguely registered the way the assassin smelled like smoke and burning metal.

Without thinking he attempted to shuffle to the side in a vain attempt to escape, only to have the firm grip on his torso grow tight and the blade press into his neck.

“Move and you die.”

The voice was cold, devoid of all emotion, low and quiet in his ear.

“My father will give you anything,” he choked out, voice raspy from the pressure on his throat and the pain lancing across his skin. “Anything you wish. Please. Tell me who sent you, it doesn’t have to be this way-”

“Shut up!” The voice growled and Hyunwoo squeezed his eyes shut as something warm trickled down his throat. Was this really it? “I just need valuables. I don’t wanna kill you.”

Hyunwoo hated how the fight fell out of his limbs at the threat. Sure, in a poised setting with rules and markers and practice Hyunwoo could defeat any opponent that faced him in his chosen art, but thrown into such a life or death situation - he was helpless and they both knew it.

Except, he realised with a gasp, that the intruders' voice was strange.

Strange because it was foreign.

Strange because it was familiar.

He recognised that voice, from somewhere deep within his buried memories. He was sure of it.

“Hoseok?” he choked out.

There was a moment of silence where the night froze, and then all of a sudden the hand on his neck fell slack and he was pushed forward, forced to stumble to regain his footing. He spun on his feet quickly, grasping an adjuster pole rested against the wood of the wall and holding it out as a makeshift defence.

The intruder had purple hair.

It was hard to make out in the flickering light of the lamp on his desk as well as the glow from the window but the otherworldly sheen of magenta was hard to miss.

“It is you!” he gasped. This was the boy who had haunted his dreams for so many years! Stood right in front of him, dressed in strange rough baji and a too-short layered overthrow with the same glinting ridges down the front.

His face was hard to distinguish in the low light but it was obvious he stared at Hyunwoo in disbelief. His almond-shaped eyes were wide and mouth parted, one fist still grasping a short spear and soot smeared all across his face and down his strange clothes. It was as if he’d been dragged through the smouldering remains of a fire and not been allowed to clean the dirt from his pale skin or fix the rips in his odd clothes.

“I thought I’d imagined you,” the Crown Prince gasped, lowing the stick he had picked up for defence. “But look, it’s you! The boy with purple hair!”

Hoseok was shaking his head and taking a few steps back. Hyunwoo couldn’t focus on that however, not when his body was flooded with such overwhelming thoughts of maybe he wasn’t insane after all.

“I thought you weren't real! I thought I was crazy!” He laughed in complete disbelief. “Do you remember me? I’m Son Hyunwoo. The Crown Prince! We met all those years ago, and you gave me this, remember? The two Koi fish? I promised you I’d take care of them and I did!”

While talking Hyunwoo had reached into the pocket sewn into the hem of his Hanbok and was now brandishing the small chip with excitement.

The boy with purple hair opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. His eyes were wide with fear and his hand tightened on the blade he was holding.

“It is you, right?” Hyunwoo faltered. “You're Hoseok? The boy from the future?”

“I’m sorry I tried to kill you,” the boy from the future whispered, voice quiet and so unlike the growl that he’d exhibited a few minutes ago.

“Do you remember me?”

“Yeah. Yeah, uh, the gardens right? I was running from Han, I think, that day. We met. I.. showed you the hologram...” Hoseok seemed confused as he spoke. “How long ago was that? To you, I mean?”

“Seven years ago,” Hyunwoo breathed. “It's been seven years. I was convinced I was insane.”

“Seven years?” Hoseok’s eyes widened with fear. “Oh no, no, the system- the watch- it must have synced our timelines-”

“Are you okay?” the Crown Prince asked with a frown, watching as Hoseok’s eyes darted around the room like a rabbit who was hiding from the hunt.

“Can I please steal your vase?”

Hyunwoo frowned. “What?”

“Your vase. I need it. Can I take it?” Hoseok pointed at the ceramic object placed by the side of his bed. “Oh, and the silk. Maybe the pendant ‘cos I could get extra cash, but I guess it’s personal to you so you’re wearing it-”

Hyunwoo shook his head and held up his hand. “You’re confusing me. Why are you here? Why did you just try to kill me?”

“I told you, I need to take some stuff to sell. I was planning on.. On taking it by force, that’s why the whole knife thing happened but- yeah, don’t need that plan anymore so if you don’t mind me-”

Hyunwoo watched in total disbelief as Hoseok brushed past him - strange fabric rustling with a sound he could not describe - apparently making his way towards the vase placed on a podium by his bed.

“Can you make the fish swim again?”

“What?” Hoseok shot him a confused glance.

“The fish. The Koi fish!” Hyunwoo held open his hand which still clutched the black chip. “Can you make them swim again? Are they still alive?”

“You still have that?” Hoseok looked back at him somewhat scathingly before flicking something out from his pocket and waving it over the ceramic pot in front of him. “They're not alive, you Pod. They're holograms. Just little beams of light.”

“But I want to see them again-”

“And I need to take this vase-”

Hyunwoo wasn’t used to people being so informal to him, and the disrespectful tone the soot-covered boy spoke to him with left him perplexed and bordering on offended.

Fueled by this confusion, Hyunwoo reached forward to grab his outstretched wrist and spun him around so they were face to face. The action caused Hoseok to inhale sharply and his eyes grew even wider when Hyunwoo spoke. “If you show them to me again, you can have as many vases as you choose.”

“Are you serious?” his voice was obviously exasperated. “Poddie, I don't have time for this!”

“You're a time traveller, you have all the time in the world!”

At that Hoseok’s comeback faltered, and he stared at Hyunwoo with an unreadable expression, pale wrist still grasped in his hand.

“Please?” Hyunwoo pleaded. “For me? I’ve waited so long.”

Hoseok didn’t say anything. His warm brown eyes flickered orange in the lamplight, a strangely vibrant colour to the Crown Prince who had only ever known the black of his scholars or dirt brown of his fathers.

Hyunwoo thought the boy from the future was quite beautiful.

“Seven years,” he breathed, focusing on the warmth of Hoseok's shining eyes. “I’ve waited seven years.”

Hoseok’s expression softened. His face had lost all signs of youth from the day they had first met - no longer were there round cheeks and innocent eyes but a chiselled jaw and hardened gaze. He had changed - but then again, so had Hyunwoo.

“Fine,” the boy with purple hair sighed, defeated, before shaking off his hand and setting up the strange mechanism on the table the Prince often used for calligraphy. He flicked out what looked like a stand, pressed two buttons, then gently took the chip from where Hyunwoo grasped it and slot it into the side. “There. Happy now?”

The contraption whirred gently and the nervousness in Hyunwoo's stomach churned like milk being made into butter. He was not prepared for this. He was not ready to see the fantasy he had held onto for the past seven years come to life once again.

As soon as the beams of light lit up the wooden ceiling of his hanok he inhaled and stepped backwards, watching as they criss-crossed over the wooden beams and stuttered on and off. He watched in awe as an image slowly appeared from the light - at first just moving clouds of orange and red, and then slowly edges were defined by sharp corners and details were etched in colour and then suddenly there were two koi fish made of light, swimming around his room.

“I thought I was crazy,” Hyunwoo whispered with a smile of innocent joy. “All those years.. That tiny black slate was all that kept me sane. It was the only way I knew you were real.”

He reached out with a hand and inhaled sharply when a fish swam right through his forearm. The light caught on his skin and cast a shadow on the ceiling, giving the same impression that moving shadows did as they chased the sun behind a blockage of trees. It felt as if he’d plunged his hand into lukewarm water, and as he watched the fish flickered in and out of existence before continuing to float in a circle.

“Your neck,” Hoseok said softly to his side.

Hyunwoo couldn’t bring himself to turn away from the two koi fish and stayed watching them with sparkling eyes.

“Hyunwoo, your neck’s bleeding-” the boy with purple hair said more urgently.

“It is fine,” he whispered, still enthralled, and yet suddenly he was being spun around and something cool was being placed on his stinging skin. “Wait, stop-”

“Shh, Poddie,” Hoseok smiled, smoothing his pale hand over the strange tab he’d just stuck to his neck. “Leave this on ‘til morning, okay? Just trust me on this. It's a healing patch. Like a plaster just.. Better.”

“What kind of material is it?”

“Plastic. Plastic and cotton, with antibacterial strips and immune-up paste.”

Hyunwoo frowned as he stroked the artificially smooth surface of the patch. “Now you’re just making words up, future boy.”

At that Hoseok laughed. The Crown Prince watched, startled, as he let out a loud giggle of gums and teeth straighter and whiter than any Hyunwoo had ever seen. They blinded him almost as much as the brightness of his eye smile and the crinkled shape of his nose.

It was like sunlight. Hoseok was like sunlight.

He cleared his throat and began to busy himself.

“To repay you for showing me the fish, Hoseok, I will grant you what you require,” he stated in a formal tone, gathering the silk sheets piled in the corner and folding them across the desk. He removed the pendant from around his neck and placed it in the center of the expensive coloured fabric - it was a gift from some aristocrat, it had no meaning to him - before laying next to it a set of golden hair clips he had received from the Prince of the Yeiksa kingdom and two silver brooches embed with jewels. As he carried out his tasks he felt the burning stare of the purple haired boy follow him around his duty but he did not mind. Hoseok was allowed to watch.

To his pile of gifts he added an embroidered handkerchief and a set of sandals before he gently took the vase from its podium by his bed and wrapped it in linin to keep it safe. The vase itself was a masterpiece - a pale mint colour, it displayed the traditional brush stroked of famous ceramicist Song Leeju and was one of only three held in the household. Hyunwoo knew it was extortionately valuable but for some reason he didn't seem to mind giving it away. His father’s room held one, and the final resting place of his mother held the other. Two vases seemed more than enough for one household, he thought to himself with a smile as he placed it on top of the other gifts and lifted them all up in his arms gently.

He turned to face Hoseok with a knowing smile. The dirt-covered boy was looking at him like he was dangerous and it took everything in the Crown Prince not to laugh at the flighty way he stood - arms out to the side, as if he was about to run away in the still night.

And then Hyunwoo did something he would not usually do to a stranger nor to anybody in his court.

He bowed.

Low enough for it to be noticeable, long enough for his back to protest. He bowed to Hoseok and then offered the gifts with his arms outstretched.

“I do not know what you need these for, strange boy from the future,” he smiled. “But, as Crown Prince Son Hyunwoo, only heir to the throne and future protector of the realm, I hereby gift you these personal objects taken from my own home as a thank you for your company.”

“If I take these I’m not like.. Signing my life away to some king or whatever, right?” Hoseok asked cautiously. “I mean, I’m flattered but.. But I’m not a loyal guard or whatever, I can’t stick around-”

“No, Poddie,” The word felt foreign on his tongue and he laughed at the offended look Hoseok shot him. “It is simply a formal recognition of friendship. I gift these in exchange for your company and we form a bond of name.” He gestured once more and felt happy when Hoseok finally took the gifts into his own arms. “It is rare for a Crown Prince to be so generous in his gifts of friendship. Please, look after my possessions well.”

“Thank you Hyunwoo,” Hoseok smiled as he shifted the neatly organised gifts to make holding onto them easier. “Really, thank you. You don’t know what you just did, but you just saved my life.”

“You life in the future?” Hyunwoo quirked an eyebrow.

Hoseok laughed. “Yeah, my life in the future.”

With that the boy with purple hair straightened his back and fumbled his gifts until he could reach the contraption strapped to his wrist hidden under his sleeve. The Crown Prince vaguely remembered the word he’d used to describe it all those years ago - a Watch. He wondered what the Watch did, and why it made him travel in time.

“Wait!” he said suddenly, turning to see the fish still flickering as they swum in the air. “You can’t go yet, you forgot your light mechanism-”

“Keep it,” The purple-haired boy said with a grin. “In exchange for your valuables. It’s my gift of friendship to you.”

The sentiment was not lost on Hyunwoo. Hoseok was allowing him - some Crown Prince from the past - to keep such a magical item that created flying fish and beams of light just at the press of a button? It was absurd, but it caused a buzz of excitement in his stomach he hadn’t felt since he was a child.

“Will I ever see you again?” he asked, worry colouring his tone.

“Maybe,” Hoseok shrugged and then offered a mischievous smile. His eyes glinted in the light, as did his perfectly white teeth. “Time is almost as unpredictable as me.”

And then he was gone.

The walls of the Hanok seemed to bend around him and he disappeared with the whispered sound of wind rustling the top canopy of trees. The place he left was empty and Hyunwoo felt strangely alone stood in his quiet Hanok.

That night he knelt and watched the fish swim with awe glittering in his eyes for as long as it took the sky to bleed the gentle hues of sunrise. His body was exhausted but none of that mattered, not when he had met the boy from the future once again. Not when the strange dream he’d convinced himself was an act of magic at the age of twelve had turned out to be real.

Not when he had given him a gift of friendship that meant he could watch the pretty fish swim out of water whenever he so wished.

He slept barely a few hours that night, watching the fish swim until the sun rose in the sky, and in the morning the eunuch asked just what had caused his obvious exhaustion.

“Pretty things,” he said with a wistful smile, and the man did not ask what he meant.


	3. partner in dance

“Focus, Hyunwoo!”

The loud voice echoed through the pound of his heartbeat and the pant of heavy breathing. His entire body was trembling with exertion, sweat dripping down his forehead and even misting on the bars of the helmet, his feet leaving imprints of moisture as he moved nimbly across the wooden floor.

Focus, Hyunwoo. Focus.

“Ah!” He yelled, pivoting on his right foot and lancing forward to bring down the stick on his opponents head.

Mistake. His trainer was too quick in intercepting the blow and the brief spar that occurred had their sticks clashing in an almighty thwack with Hyunwoo reeling badly from the defensive blow.

“Guard up, attack right!” The commanding voice was muffled by the fabric of the helmet but he followed the instructions well.

A few seconds of dancing across the mat, testing the waters with temporary skitters of feet and the excuse to catch his breath, then Hyunwoo was lunging again.

“Agh!”

The mighty hollow sound that followed the fight of their sticks echoed through the high ceilinged room. A parry- followed by a spin- two hits and a close call on his right side. Hyunwoo engaged in combat and danced back and forth before he was retreating yet again from a strong attack move.

“Come on Hyunwoo, you're better than that!” his trainer shouted once again and this time his voice was laced with frustration.

The sound of his heartbeat was like a galloping horse in his head. This is what Hyunwoo lived for - the thrum of his entire body as he braced for attack. The red throb of his vision and zeroing focus on every shakey position his frame held in muscle memory.

In front of him the trainer - known only as Kim - stood slightly off centre, skittering lightly on the balls of his feet, stick held at a slight angle.

Hyunwoo had trained with this man since he was twelve years old. During that time he had learned to read him, mapped out his positions and patterns of attack.

He was ready for a double par.

Hyunwoo knew what to do.

He swung his body forward just as his trainer expected and then, with as much nimble precision as his large body could muster, sidestepped, spun and went for a lower right attack.

Something flashed in the corner of the room.

All of a sudden his footing was lost, his body catapulted without precision and then he was falling to his knees, stick scattered across the floor and his trainer's pressed to his head.

“Dead,” his trainer panted, triumphant for the third time that day. “You must be better than this.”

There was a pause filled with heavy pants as Hyunwoo lowered his head and took the scolding. Trainer Kim was not an unkind man - in fact, his weathered skin, hardened calluses and neat facial hair disguised good will - but his firm tone hit Hyunwoo hard. He did need to be better. He couldn't afford to lose, not as the Crown Prince. Not with the festival coming up in a few months.

The festival of his twentieth summer.

The festival in which he would have to perform in front of the Elders. Families were already arriving for pre-celebrations, and it was the night he would prove himself as a suitable Crown Prince. His father had built the Son kingdom with his own sweat and blood and the Council had insisted that Hyunwoo had to show his worth through other means.

If he didn't succeed, the shame would be unbearable.

“I'll be back,” Kim said firmly. “Stay alert, practice your defence.”

With that his trainer was gone, presumably taking a break to revitalise before engaging in combat again.

His breathing was laboured as he hauled himself up from the ground and slipped off his helmet, pulling his damp ponytail from the hem of his royal blue robe and standing with aching muscles to catch his breath.

“Boy from the future!” he called after a moment of silence. “Why are you watching me?”

The silence was shocking.

For a second Hyunwoo was worried he had been wrong in his assumptions. The airy sunlight filtering through the thin blinds at the top of the high ceiling reflected off the wooden floor and suspended the entire room in a dusky inbetween of dawn and midday. Around the four walls lay stacked equipment, big dummies used for practice haphazardly thrown against woven mats and racks for sticks.

This place was home to Hyunwoo. He’d recognise the slightest thing out of place - and the tuft of purple hair peeking out over a woven prop block was definitely not there yesterday.

“How d’you know I was here?” The familiar voice sounded whiney.

Hyunwoo laughed roughly and went to place the stick back in the rack. “I caught a glimpse of your purple hair while I was sparring. Only you have purple hair.”

When the Crown Prince looked up he caught the strange boy’s perturbed gaze with a raise of his eyebrows. Hoseok was clambering out from the mess of props shoved to the side of the training room, bright hair obvious in the sunlight and the soot dusted on his face almost as bad as the last night they had met. His clothes were still ripped, gloves on, rough baji hooked with harnesses and buckles. What he wore was so strange, Hyunwoo thought, watching him stretch out his legs before looking up sheepishly.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised. “Did I make you lose your match thing?”

“Not at all. I’m tired anyway,” Hyunwoo lied with a smile as he began retying his robe. “This is the third time we’re meeting. What do you want? More vases? You seem calmer than a few weeks ago.”

“I just wanted to watch you, that was all,” Hoseok said quickly, as if embarrassed about the reason. He looked oddly out of place stood on the fighters mat. “I heard stories of the great fighter Hyunwoo. I wanted to see him for myself,”

The Crown Prince looked up in surprise.

“They tell stories of me? In the future where you’re from?”

Hoseok shrugged and yet excitement began thrumming through Hyunwoo’s tired body. Maybe he would be a good king someday, if they still told stories of his fights in the distant future.

“Did you think I was good?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Yeah,” Hoseok broke out into a smile. “You’re amazing.”

The sense of happiness washed over him stronger than ever before and he grinned proudly.

“I know a boy from the future,” he chuckled to himself. “I know a magic boy from a future where they tell stories of my fighting.”

At that Hoseok laughed, still stood awkwardly some distance away. “It’s pretty crazy. Right? Wild.”

“Wild?” Hyunwoo frowned at the unfamiliar language.

“...Absurd?”

“Ah, yes.” Hyunwoo nodded like he’d known all along, shooting Hoseok a knowing smile. “I suppose it is pretty ‘Wild’.”

Once again the boy with purple hair broke out into laughter, his blinding white teeth and pretty face causing Hyunwoo’s stomach to swoop.

It was odd. Finally, in daylight and without the distracted mind of a twelve-year-old, Hyunwoo could see what Hoseok looked like.  
  
He was extremely pale. Ceramic almost, like a pot from China before it had been painted blue. His face was sculpted and small and consisted of a high bridged nose with a rounded tip, almond shaped eyes and lips that seemed too long and plump across the top. An extraordinary feature of his being was his ears - they stuck out to either side of his head in a way Hyunwoo had never seen and yet the effect was not displeasing, although the piercing of silver jewellery through them made his stomach turn. His body shape was difficult to discern under the layers of strange clothes and yet that didn't matter to Hyunwoo. What mattered to him was the thick frame of eyelashes around his large eyes, and the warm brown colour of his irises - golden in the light, so unlike anything he had ever seen before.  
  
He was undeniably beautiful. By every definition the Crown Prince had been taught of beauty - pale unblemished skin, large light eyes, bridged nose, small face - and it was all too much for him. He found himself speechless staring at Hoseok, his heart rate speeding up without reason.

“Can you teach me how to fight?” Hoseok’s accented voice snapped him out of his wandering thoughts.

“What, Bongtoongi?” The Prince looked up in surprise to find the dirtied boy holding one of the fighting sticks in his gloved hand with obvious curiosity. “You want me to teach you the dance of the sticks?”

“I’ll give you more hologram chips in exchange,” Hoseok began waving the stick around and the Crown Prince tried not to grimace at his armature grip. “I wanna learn. We don't have things like this in the future, it’s so cool to watch and I wanna do it too.”

Cool? What on earth did _that_ mean?

Hyunwoo stepped forward and gently took the stick he was brandishing with a nervous smile. The strange boy had been waving it around rather dangerously and he wasn’t particularly fond of accidental impalement.

For a second he thought about the request. Could he teach Hoseok how to fight? Did he have the time? Technically he was free this afternoon, as he was every week, although the strange boy from the future would have to return on many occasions for him to even think about properly mastering the art of Bongtoogi.

Footsteps sounded in the corridor outside of the training room and Hyunwoo shot a fearful look at the door. There were only a few seconds left before his trainer returned.

“Will you still be here at midday?” He asked hastily.

“Afternoon?” The boy frowned and rolled up his sleeve to scan the Watch on his arm. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll still be here. The time channel doesn’t open again until two.”

“That gives us two hours.” Hyunwoo glanced nervously behind him. “If you meet me here at that time, Future boy, I will teach you how to spar.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Hyunwoo willed the unsure boy in front of him to accept his offer. “I took care of your fish, remember?”

The airy sunlight glittered on Hoseok’s warm, ochre eyes. He nodded slowly. “I remember.”

All of a sudden there came the sound of the door opening behind them and the Hoseok's face grew pale with fear.

Hyunwoo could barely register his quick movement as he flicked something on his wrist and then the light warped around him. Bending as if forced from either side, the boy from the future disappeared with a sound like air through the trees.

Hoseok was gone.

Hyunwoo cocked his head to the side and smiled knowingly. If he had reflexes that quick, maybe he had potential.

“Hyunwoo! Are you ready?” His trainers voice echoed in the high-ceilinged room.

The stick he held felt study and familiar in his hand as he flexed his fingers around the smooth wood. He took a second to compose himself - relaxing each of his muscles in turn, tuning out the exhausted ache - before spinning on his heels to find his trainer already stood in position.

“Ready.”

For the fourth time that day, Hyunwoo lost to his trainer.

He would have to be better. There was no other choice.

When the sun reached the highest point in the sky and the flowers had opened full bloom, after he had stood through an early morning council meeting and consulted with his fathers' attendant, Hyunwoo found himself in the training room for the second time that day. On most occasions he would practice for many hours in the morning, fighting until his feet were worn red and his muscles heavy lead, and at that point his trainer would offer him a low bow and praise him for his efforts.

As it was, the room was lit brilliantly by sunlight and the mat almost sparkled in the springtime rays, the heat heavy and colours pale. Hoseok had yet to arrive and so the Crown Prince busied himself with assuming the proper robe and reorganising the rack of sticks before eventually settling into a kneeling position in the centre of the mat facing away from the door. He figured it was pointless to tire himself while waiting and so he closed his eyes to relax.

When he felt a whisper of air tickle the back of his neck he knew Hoseok was there.

Opening his eyes, he watched passively as the boy with purple hair stepped into his view and seemed to brush something from his arms.

“You’re late,” he said with a wry smile.

Hoseok jumped and then turned to him with a wide grin. “Sorry Poddie. Was busy with some whole Renaissance thing - apparently world famous painters don’t like it when you steal their work.”

At that Hyunwoo laughed - not understanding the joke, not wanted to show himself as clueless - before he stood up and brushed off his fighting robe.

“Take off your extra layers.” He motioned towards the boy’s harnessed clothes. “To fight you must wear the proper garments, and that is… unacceptable.”

Hoseok hesitated for a moment, seemingly as if he were searching for a quip answer, before shrugging and beginning to remove his short overcoat. While he did so the Prince dragged a dummy towards the centre of the mat. It was a heavy thing - a block of wood that rose to a mans chest, complete with poles wrapped in white linen that stuck out at various intervals. It was usually used for beginners and those without a training partner; today it would be used to teach Hoseok the basics.

When Hyunwoo had finished his set up he turned to give his next instruction, only to stop dead in his tracks upon finding Hoseok bundling clothes and laying them on the ground.

His whole silhouette was outlined to the last gentle curve. The tightness of the black underclothes he wore was startling - it even appeared the baggy, rough baji he’d been wearing had been a cover for a skin-tight material. For the first time Hyunwoo could see how broad his shoulders were, how the material hugged his firm arms and tapered waist.

It made him feel such strange things, seeing the anatomy of a man like that. Hidden, just out of sight, shapes fit together and carved out by fabric and stance and marble-like arms.

Hyunwoo felt his throat grow tight and he had no idea why.

"What are the name of the fabrics you wear, future boy?" he asked curiously.  
  
"This?” The boy pointed to his torso. “This is a Tee-Shirt. Cotton I think? And my jackets nylon, comes with circuits inside for warmth," He motioned to the pile of clothes before back to his legs. "These are jeans,"  
  
"Jeans," Hyunwoo whispered. They were so tight. Every curve of his muscle was amplified, the slope of his thighs hugged by the black material. He didn't know why he stared for so long. He didn't want to look away.  
  
"Yes, jeans," Hoseok laughed. “Means I can move quick. Jump tracks, run fast, sit comfy in front of computers-” his speech cut out as he walked towards him and noticed the fabric gathered in Hyunwoo’s hand. “What's that?”

“You must wear it to fight.” The Prince offered the garment to him and smiled when he took it, watching the pale skin of his arms disappear into the royal blue sleeves. “What's a com-pew-ter?”

“A machine. A device? Made of like.. electricity hooked up to hardware storage that powers a screen and lets you do stuff,” Hoseok explained, nose scrunching as he tried to work the robe. Hyunwoo didn't understand a thing. “It's like my hologram, except the screen is fixed in one place and you communicate with people all over the world.”

The struggle he had with the item of clothing was childlike, Hyunwoo supposed, and he stepped forward to help him tie it without hesitation, gently looping the knots around his tapered waist and smoothing over the thick fabric.

Perhaps his hands lingered too long. Hyunwoo tried not to think about it.

“Thanks,” Hoseok swallowed and turned to look at the prop. It seemed he grew more nervous by the second. “What's that?”

“This is what we use for practice alone. Stance, speed, parry combinations. You cannot fight with me before you have the correct technique,” Hyunwoo sized up the height of the boy - he was shorter than him which was not a surprise - before picking a linen-wrapped pole at the height of his chest and pointing to the mat in front of it. “Stand here.”

Hoseok did as he was told, brow furrowed handsomely and eyes flitting in confusion. It almost made Hyunwoo laugh, how adorable his perplexity was.

“This is the stick that I used for training. It is lighter than the others, and will help you with technique instead of strength at first,” Hyunwoo handed over the most important aspect of the fight, the Bongtoogi stick, appreciating the gentle way Hoseok seemed to grasp it. “Now, stand with your shoulders forward, legs a width apart and rotated at an angle, arms in front and head straight on.”

Hoseok shuffled on the mat in an amateur attempt to copy his words.

Following how trainer Kim had taught him when he was younger, the Prince wasted no time fixing his thighs into the correct position, rotating his leg out and grasping his shin with his hand before gently turning his waist and correcting the stance of his shoulders. He saw the stiff way Hoseok stood, not relaxing into the position and instead tensing every time Hyunwoo’s hands ghosted over his body.  
  
"You okay? he asked with an amused smile, using one hand to flatten his stomach and the other to straighten his back.  
  
"Yeah, fine," Hoseok choked out. His voice seemed breathless and he only met Hyunwoo eyes for a second.  
  
"There." The Crown Prince smiled when the lines of his body formed the shape it should. "Perfect."  
  
The boy from the future gulped and shifted the stick nervously. "What do I do now?"  
  
"Swing.”  
  
"Swing?"  
  
"Hit the pole. Move your arms up-" Hyunwoo demonstrated slowly, "-and then down,"  
  
When he finally went to hit the target it looked as if he were trying to hit a rock into the heavens. It was far too clunky, a strike that moved forward with only his arms and not the rest of his body, his head dropping in such a manner that would damage his neck should he have fought like it. "Like that?" Hoseok turned to ask him innocently.  
  
"No," Hyunwoo gave a soft laugh, moving forward to wrap his arms around his back and grasp both his forearms. "Like this," He gently lifted Hoseok’s arms up, before pressing his torso into the boys back and guiding his arms down in a smooth, elegant manoeuvre.  
  
The boy in his arms gulped. "I don't think I want to do this anymore."  
  
"What, is the boy from the future scared?" He murmured, amused. "I thought you had, what was it- flying machines? Air-oh-wanes?"  
  
"Aeroplanes,” Hoseok whispered.

“Mm. Aeroplanes. Your body is a machine, like Aeroplanes. You must control each aspect, use it in tandem to fight. You cannot forget any aspect of the machine or it stops working - like a rice plough or a carriage. All three wheels on a carriage may work but if the fourth is forgotten then it will not move- ah, slow, slow,” Hyunwoo gripped his arms tighter and inhaled as he guided him through the movement again, more precise this time, willing the other boy to pick up each flow of rhythm and understand fighting was more about the art than the victory.

Hoseok smelt like smoke and metal and soot. It was a comforting aroma. A nice change to the floral scents of the palace grounds.

He stepped back after a few more guided hits and Hoseok looked at him with wide eyes. There was a pretty rose blush on his pale cheeks already smudged with ash and Hyunwoo thought vaguely that the colour made him seem like the paintings of queens with their rosy complexion and bright lips.

When nothing happened, he gestured with his head for Hoseok to show him again.

The boy steeled himself, adjusting his grip on the stick and focusing his eyes on the pole, before slowly guiding his arms up and bringing them down in a smooth blow.  
  
"Like that?" he looked up for confirmation.  
  
"Perfect," Hyunwoo smiled proudly. "Now try again, but this time shift your weight through the balls of your feet," Hoseok compiled once again, even better this time. "Good. Snap your wrist quicker. You want a sharp sound, not a ricochet."

“Hey, this isn't so hard,” Hoseok began to smile his blinding smile after a few more practices, the glisten of sweat a pretty sight on his neck.

“Getting used to it, future boy?” The Prince cocked his head and motioned with his hand. “Now, shout.”

“Shout?”

“Ahh!”

“Ah?”

Obviously his encouragement wasn’t working, and so Hyunwoo set about a different method. “Imagine the target is your worst enemy. Who did you say was chasing you the first night? Oh-fee-seals?”

Hoseok’s jaw clenched. “Officials?”

“Yes. Hit them.”

The fire in Hoseok's eyes was almost scary. If Hyunwoo hadn’t thought his smile was like sunlight on an early summer’s morning, he would have been backing away in fear.

His mind briefly flashed back to the night Hoseok had almost killed him with a cold knife pressed against his throat.

The boy with purple hair was dangerous.

He was also beautiful.

“Ah!” he yelled - a deep, guttural sound - and swung the stick in such a precise, powerful way Hyunwoo was left in awe.

“Perfect,” he whispered, before nodding like his trainer used to. “Again!”

“Ahh!”

“Now Hyak!”

“Hyak!”

Hyunwoo smiled proudly and his stomach churned when Hoseok gave him a blinding grin. The beginnings of sweat were beading on his forehead and the high arches of the room reflected sunlight on his skin.

He cleared his throat and gestured. “Again!”

They practiced until the sun had sunk below midday and Hyunwoo’s voice had grown hoarse from shouting commands. Despite the unrelenting heat and obvious exhaustion present on his face, Hoseok was determined to master the three basic strikes and by the end of the session the Prince could yell each position and have him hit it as precisely as he wanted. With quick reactions, a loud voice and fire burning behind his warm eyes, Hoseok had proved himself to be a fast learner and a promising prodigy.

“It's only been an hour!” Hoseok whined when they finished, dropping his arms and bringing up his robe to wipe at his dripping forehead. “How d’you do this all day, I'm exhausted!”

“Do you not exercise in the future?” Hyunwoo laughed as they both pushed the target prop back into the corner of the room.

“I run from big guys with guns, sure, but I'm usually too busy not dying to care about my stamina.”

“Guns?”

“Nevermind,” Hoseok laughed and shook his head, stretching out his arm muscles and wincing at the pain.

Whatever a Gun was it must be funny, Hyunwoo thought with a smile.

“I just taught a boy from the future to spar,” he chuckled in gentle disbelief, accepting the robe Hoseok handed him and folding it carefully. “I'm beyond thinking I'm mad, I've truly gone insane.”

“Hey, wanna know something crazy?” Hoseok grinned from where he was pulling on his strange baji. “According to the history books, you're in the Joseon dynasty. Year 950, give or take.”

“So?”

“So, I'm from the year 2047,” Hoseok said proudly, lacing up his clunky shoes. He hadn’t slung his overcoat - what had he called it? A jacket? - over his frame yet, and the tightness of his undertop was distracting Hyunwoo somewhat. “You died like, a thousand years ago. But you're also my friend.”

Friend.

The word made him happy.

“I do not know much about you, future boy, and yet you know when I live and die,” Hyuwnoo shook his head in amusement.

“I told you. I'm Hoseok, Shin Hoseok. Nineteen years old, born the first of March twenty-twenty-eight. I like programming, time hopping, stealing food and running for my life.”

“The future sounds scary. What is your family like? I’ve always wondered.” Hyunwoo asked, watching the purple haired boy strap up his gloves. “My family is my father - he’s the King, but I assume you know that. I spend a lot of time wandering the gardens.. Maybe I should take you to the river one day, I could show you real Koi fish and even float a lantern.”

“It’d be nice to see real fish. My city is so dirty all the rivers run green,” Hoseok mused quietly. When Hyunwoo opened his mouth to point out that he’d skirted around the question of his family, a ringing sound echoed in the wooden room and Hoseok grimaced, rolling up his sleeve. “Ah, the channels open. I gotta go.”

“But-”

“No buts. If I don't leave now I'll break the time loop.” The boy rubbed at his flushed face and looked up at him. “Will you be here next week? To teach me more?”

“Yes. I will wait for you here in this room, a week from now. The same time?”

“Mm, the same time,” Hoseok smiled. They were quite close, thought the Prince. Close enough that he could count the moles on the beautiful boy’s face. “This watch has aligned with your timeline, for whatever reason. No matter where I go it always brings me back to you.”

“Is that a good thing?” Hyunwoo frowned.

“Maybe,” Hoseok’s sunlight eyes echoed amber and rust and when their gaze met he seemed to think for a moment. “Bye, Poddie.”

“Bye, Hoseok.”

Hoseok looked as if he was about to say something else.

And then he was gone.

Disappearing into thin air just like every time before.

That night Hyunwoo watched the fish swim in his Hanok, leant against the wooden wall with his knees curled up by his chest.

He wondered if Hoseok enjoyed living in the future, with his strange clothes and odd flying machines. He wondered what his family was like, and why he could so easily switch from a smile made of sunlight to a stare of burning fire.

He also wondered why he missed him so much.


	4. sunlight and stone

Over the next few weeks, Hyunwoo taught Hoseok to fight.

At the same time, in the same training room, neatly resting in the same kneeling position as last time, Hyunwoo waited for Hoseok to appear. He did in a quiet woosh of air and when he walked into view his dirt-covered face, strange clothes and vibrant hair made Hyunwoo smile fondly.

The boy from the future was a quick learner. After just two sessions he had mastered all six basic strikes and by the end of the third he could skillfully manoeuvre between the linen-wrapped poles and hit from multiple angles depending on Hyunwoo's command. He still needed to work on his precision and occasionally he showed footwork mistakes thanks to his muscular frame, but those improvements would come with time. The Prince was proud of his prodigy. He enjoyed watching Hoseok lose himself in the art of Bongtoogi and learn to focus on himself.

When Hyunwoo asked for another hologram chip after their second session together, as the other boy lay exhausted on the floor and Hyunwoo put away the props, Hoseok offered him a mischievous grin and said he’d hand it over when they fought on the mat for real.

Unbelievable. Hoseok was shameless openly rebuffing a Crown Prince’s requests like that but Hyunwoo thought it was the best trait in the world. Nobody else ever left him chasing after them, conceding after only a gentle command or taking up complaints with his father. Hoseok was forbidden and disrespectful and dangerous and Hyunwoo loved it.

It was during their fourth meeting that Hyunwoo did not pull out the target prop, instead offering to show him how to fight on the mat for the very first time.

“Are you serious?” Hoseok gasped and then broke out into a grin. The purple-haired boy was already dressed in his robe - having gotten quite good at tying it himself - with a stick held in his right hand and his feet bare on the mat. “We can fight for real? No more stupid prop?”

Hyuwnoo laughed and nodded. “Yes, though first I wish for you to show me how you would hit without the target first.. Stand in the middle of the mat and swing, go through the combination I taught you last session. The double parry, side hit and down strike.”

Hoseok did as he was told. After a few seconds of relaxation, shaking out his muscles and cocking his head to the side, he assumed the stance he had been taught and followed through with the pattern. As he did so he skittered across the mat; still heavy footed, and finished with a shout and a simple downwards hit towards the air.

"I see you already fight with style," Hyunwoo laughed, observing the stylised way Hoseok moved his body and the flourish at the end of the parry.

"Is that a bad thing?" Hoseok asked breathlessly.

"Depends. Do you wish to be awarded prizes for beauty or skill?" 

Hoseok seemed to deliberate for a moment before his jaw set firm. "Skill."

"Then take out the flourish. Hit not with the intention of making the crowd gasp, but with the intention of winning." Hyunwoo briefly demonstrated a shorter, sharper way of finishing each move. "Style means slow. Sure, you can skip on your feet to entertain, but Bongtoogi is more than just a dance of pleasure. It is a fight, and you want to win."

Once again Hoseok steeled himself, adjusting his grip on the stick, and then he was dancing forward again.

"Less footwork!" Hyunwoo called, wincing as he double stepped on a simple side rotation. "Don't swing back as far. Short, sharp- yes! Like that."

After he’d reached the end of the combination the purple-haired boy was breathing heavily, determination lighting fire in his eyes. Hyunwoo didn’t even have to tell him to repeat the manoeuvres before he was dancing across the mat once again.

"You're losing position! Always fall back to default. Shoulders squared. Tighten the stomach!" He sighed in exasperation when Hoseok let frustration fuel his body and through anger lost his precision. Calling off the rotation, the Prince made his way to the other boy and placed a firm hand on his stomach, gently twisting his waist to the side and pushing his back straight. "Like this."

Hoseok wouldn’t meet his gaze and when Hyunwoo called for it to be repeated, the boys ivory skin had turned a delicate shade of rose.

Pretty.

The next repetition was much better. Hoseok moved his entire body with each step and didn’t linger too long on the movements with artistic replication.

"Perfect,” Hyunwoo smiled to himself. “Again!" 

They continued like that for an hour. At the end of it Hoseok was dripping sweat, his knuckles red from his grip and his chest heaving at the end of every pattern. Despite his obvious exhaustion he kept pushing through every set of movements Hyunwoo yelled at him and the Prince admired his determination.

“When can we actually fight?” Hoseok gasped for air after the fifth repetition of a particularly hard set.

Hyunwoo raised his eyebrow at him.

Perhaps he was being too harsh. Perhaps he should have a little fun. He was the Crown Prince after all, it’s not like he didn’t wish to engage in humour on occasion.

After a few seconds of deliberation, he collected the two helmets from the rack by the door and held one out to him.

“Fine, boy from the future,” He raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips in a smile. “If you are so determined to fight me, show that you can win.”

It took a moment for Hoseok to latch onto the teasing challenge. When he did he grinned daringly and took the helmet without hesitation.

“You’re going down, Crown Prince.”

Soon enough they were both facing each other on the mat. It was obvious who had the advantage - Hyunwoo had seven years of experience and Hoseok had four weeks of basic training - but the boy with purple hair was not one to give up easily. Through the bars of his helmet the Prince could see Hoseok’s warm ochre eyes catching the sunlight and flickering with mischief. They hovered on the mat for a few moments, poking fun at each other with light steps, Hyunwoo laughing at how ridiculous Hoseok was with his playful nature.

“On the count of three,” he warned, adjusting the grip on his stick. “One… two… three!”

  
Their sticks clashed almost immediately. Hoseok had lanced forward in a downward strike and Hyunwoo had rebuffed it with a simple side lunge.

“A fight is a dance,” Hyunwoo called, weighing the stick in his hand, circling Hoseok in position. “A dance of skill, not of beauty. Those who can master the sport find beauty in their attack. You do not force art, but let it control each of your limbs until the dance is as easy as breathing.”

“How on earth do I do that?” Hoseok gasped after he attempted to strike Hyunwoo on the side and was left reeling from his quick defence.

“Not like that!” Hyunwoo laughed. The muffled sound of Hoseok’s whine twisted his mouth fondly, and then he launched forward to attack again.

As the fight progressed Hyunwoo began to map out his opponents' weaknesses. The boy was too heavy footed, and he seemed to give away his next manoeuvre through the shifting angle of his body and obvious flicker of his eyes. Hoseok’s issue was he was far too focused on the next pattern or movement or parry and not in analysing Hyunwoo’s stance and figuring out how best to attack.

He was hasty. Hurried. Impatient. 

Great technique, but too ansty on his feet. It was as if he were putting his life on the line and not showing the art of fighting.

“You are not going to win this fight. It is to teach you the basics of movement-” Hyunwoo broke from his speech to block a blow aimed at his head. “Stop! Adjust your feet. Move lightly on the tips, don’t land heavy and don't move only with your arms. Feel your whole body flow.”

At least he took directions well, Hyunwoo thought, as he watched him adjust his position and try to strike again.

When it was obvious the other boy grew tired Hyunwoo took pity on him. With a gentle sidestep, a feint to the left and blow to the right Hoseok only narrowly blocked in panic, the Prince hit him with a serious of controlled, quick movements that left him on his knees, stick skittering away and Hyunwoo’s weapon placed on his head.

“I win,” he laughed. He removed his mask and watched as a stunned Hoseok did the same. His face was flushed from the fight and he seemed surprised having lost. “Good fight. You have potential.”

“That was so unfair,” he grumbled, forcing his tired body to stand and wiping the sweat that had collected on his brow while Hyunwoo placed his bamboo stick back on the rack.

“It was fair. You challenged me to a fight, it was not my fault you have only had a month of practice- ah!” Hyunwoo gasped and stumbled backwards as he felt a heavy weight pull on his neck. “What are you doing?” he exclaimed, pulling at the muscular arms that had wrapped themselves around his torso.

"This is how we fight in the future!" Hoseok laughed, wrestling him around and attempting to lock his head under his arm.

Hyunwoo was stunned. Never in his life as a Crown Prince had somebody been as bold as to handle him like this. It left him struggling, the idea that a man younger than him could be so disrespectful was bewildering.

“Stop!” he commanded, twisting his body and trying to grab at his waist.

“Why should I?” Hoseok laughed and rubbed at his head. “I fought like you, now you gotta fight like me! Have some fun!”

"I'm the Crown Prince!" The absurdity of the situation was beginning to dawn on him and his demands grew fractured with laughter. “You cannot- this is disrespect-”

All of a sudden Hyunwoo hooked his foot around Hoseok’s legged and pulled, dissolving into uncharacteristic giggles as they both began to tousle on the mat. Hoseok tried to jab at his waist and Hyunwoo pushed him over, their robes slippery on the floor, both of their joy growing louder as they rolled.

Eventually Hyunwoo ended up on top of him, pale wrists pinned under his large hands and body holding him down.

"I win!" he exclaimed proudly, grinning widely, body panting from the fight. It was absurd. But it had been fun.

Hoseok was laughing. Blinding white teeth glinted under the airy sunlight, purple hair messy and a contrast against the wood he rest his head on. The fight fell out of his body quickly. Despite his muscular frame, Hyunwoo had more mass and so it wasn’t surprising that he won.

When Hoseok met Hyunwoo’s triumphant gaze his laughter faltered into a drowsy smile.

Just like sunlight. 

All of a sudden Hoseok reached up towards him. At first Hyunwoo was convinced he was about to gently hold his face and his heart skipped a beat, but as it was the purple haired boy simply tugged on his scalp and with a gasp the Prince scrambled backwards off of him and tried to stop his hair cascading over his shoulders.

"You cannot just do that!" he chastised as he hurriedly attempted to scrape his hair back into a knot. "It's improper! A Crown Prince does not have his hair down-"

"Why not?" Hoseok laughed, pushing himself up from where he lay on the floor and shaking out his own messy hair. There was a pretty flush on his cheeks from the fight. "You don't have to be the Crown Prince all the time. Sometimes you can just be Hyunwoo."

"I am Son Hyunwoo, the Crown Prince. They are not separate people."

"They are to me," Hoseok smiled and placed a reassuring hand on his arm. They were both sat cross-legged on the mat and Hyunwoo was frantically trying to re-tie his hair. "Don't! Relax. It's fine. Nobody else will see you like this but me."

Hyunwoo swallowed thickly at the contact. His chest was doing strange things, and he suddenly felt uncomfortable under Hoseok's warm stare with his hair falling down his back. "Do I... Does it look good?"

"Yeah," Hoseok breathed. "You look great."

There was a pause. Hoseok fiddled with the hem of his robe and Hyunwoo watched his eyelashes flutter.

"Can I... Can I touch your hair?" he asked quietly, hesitantly. "I have always wanted to. Because.. it.. it's purple. And short."

Hoseok laughed softly and gestured to his head in a motion Hyunwoo was learning meant approval. Slowly but surely the Prince stretched out his hand and ran his fingers across the purple strands, taking a bit in his hand and rubbing at the colour "Woah.." he gasped, feeling the prickly way the edges of his hair brushed his skin and the soft texture of such a vibrant colour. "This is crazy, future boy. I never would have thought this possible."

"Lots of things in the future would seem impossible to you," Hoseok said with a grin. "I can cook food in less than a minute. Fly on a plane to anywhere in the world. Visit space for a getaway holiday and get tattoos that are only permanent for a few years,"

Hyunwoo had no idea what he was saying but that didn’t matter.

“How does it work? The Watch? Why can you travel in time? How do you pick where you’re going?”

“I'll show you. See? You slot the time using these dials-” Hoseok rolled up his sleeve to reveal that he was still wearing the watch and shuffled closer until he was sat next to Hyunwoo. Then he began pointing to features on the surface consisting of strange looking symbols and hands that moved around the face. “Check the loop is open, and then click the button up here.”

“That's it?” Hyunwoo frowned. Time travel seemed so simple.

The boy shrugged. “It's more complicated than that but yeah, basically. The watchmaker, Chae, he's a genius. Einstein level. One of the greatest IQs and the title of Most Wanted because of it.”

“Why do you have one?”

“Chae gives them to those smart enough to not get caught and stupid enough to not ruin time. Once you use one.. It’s like you’re stuck in a loop, right?” The boy tried to make shapes with his hands as he explained. It was incredibly endearing. “The estimated time curve is an exponential graph. You find a point on that graph and reverse it, moving the other way in time, to get to the point that you want. When you enter the loop, you can’t escape. Each watch is set to a specific loop and can jump between those times - like this one,” He showed off his wrist. “It’s one of Chae’s older models. It spans between my time and around three-hundred AD? It was made before Chae could reverse the graph negatively and travel into the future as well, but it’s helpful because it means that no matter what, the furthest I can travel to is my own time.”

The flurry of words and the confident way Hoseok explained it left Hyunwoo beyond confused, bordering on entertained. It was so captivating how he explained things with the use of his hands and the serious pout of his lips.

“Thats… wild,” Hyunwoo nodded in agreement.

Hoseok laughed. “Yeah, wild.”

“Tell me about your family, future boy. I suppose you know of my history as you've talked about my legacy-” there was a snort of amusement, “- but you never talk about yourself. What is your father like? How do kingdoms work in the future?’

Hoseok grinned. “Hyunwoo, in the future kingdoms don't exist.”

“They don't?” The Prince looked up in panic.

“No!” Hoseok laughed, pushing his shoulder playfully. “The world is quite small. We have a colony on the moon, but.. I suppose countries are kingdoms. Seoul is just like any other future metropolis, one that didn't fall during the recession and internet war of the twenties.”

“I have no idea what any of that means.”

“No, don't suppose you do Poddie,” his friend sighed. “In the future, kingdoms are all run by bad guys. Really big bad guys, who don't like freedom of the people and restrict technology use.. overpopulation is a problem. The media's a lie to keep the people's eyes off the big cooperation who aren't afraid to kill.”

That sounded terrifying to Hyunwoo. “Would these evil men kill you? If they knew you were in the past?”

“No, but they'd take my watch,” Hoseok looked at his wrist longingly. “That's worse than death.”

They sat in silence for a few moments. It was then that Hyunwoo realised their shoulders were almost touching, and he wondered what would happen if he closed the gap.

“I asked about your family,” he broke the silence.

There was a pause.

“I don't have a family,” Hoseok shrugged, not meeting his gaze. “I'm a Roamer.’

“What does that mean?”

“Rich families who live in suburbs are allowed one child each,” he explained quietly. “If they have another, they abandon the oldest.”

Oh.

Hyunwoo looked up at Hoseok with wide, worried eyes. He had been left by his family? But blood was the most important tie of relations. Without the importance on family, a kingdom could not survive and the country would be in ruins.

“That sounds terrible,” he whispered.

“It’s really not. I like roaming.” Hoseok took a deep breath and forced a grin. “I'm good at living on the edge of the grid, great at coding, walking the line between reality and hologram. Society likes to forget we exist out there, between the cracks of normalcy. We're here but they chose to ignore us, one step below Poddies. I'm the scum of the City. I'm invisible.”

“You’re worse than a Pod?” Hyunwoo’s eyes widened almost comically.

The boy chuckled. “Mm. The insults start at Climber, for those who can afford stairs in their house, then Dwelly for those in cities, Pod for those in pods and… Rats, for those who roam,” Hoseok explained. “It means I can jump time without running too far. They have a hard time tracking somebody who isn't logged on the system. I don't technically exist, so they can't catch me.”

“Dwelly?”

“Short for Dweller,” he laughed, before shaking off the subject and looking up with a curious glint in his eye. “ Why do you learn Bongtoogi?"

Oh. Hyunwoo hadn’t expected such a question in return. After a moment of thought, and perhaps a lingering gaze on Hoseok’s pretty lips, he spoke again.

"It is part of the ritual of Hwa Rang Do," he began to explain, the words he used having been imprinted on him from the moment he was born to royal blood. "The way of the flower boys. You must fight, You must have etiquette, you must be skilled in the art of persuasion and have perfected the art of calligraphy, painting and dance. You must be attractive, intelligent, and- above all- a man."

"Are you all of those things?"

"No,” Hyunwoo laughed. “I am lacking in my defence of words. I am creatively stumped, cannot read a book to save my life, and am the opposite of attractive in all definite terms."

"You're attractive," Hoseok said quietly. He didn't meet his eye, choosing instead to pick at his hem.

"You flatter me, Hoseok," Hyunwoo chuckled, rolling up his sleeves in an attempt to cool down. Their shoulders brushed accidentally. "My skin is too tan from my time in the gardens and I have the appearance of a commoner because of it. I am too broad to fit the silhouette of a flower boy, too soft to be that of a great soldier. My nose is flat, lips too big, my eyes have a single fold and my teeth are crooked."

Hoseok frowned and opened his mouth to protest but Hyunwoo waved him away with a smile.

"It is fine, do not object. I have been born the Crown Prince, it would be useless to complain about not being gifted looks as well. But... but you, on the other hand?" Hyunwoo's eyes flickered up to take in his sculpted side profile beneath the airy sunlight filtering through the training room. "Your nose is high bridged. Skin paler than ivory, lips long, face small.. big eyes," Hyunwoo swallowed thickly. "Pretty eyes. Eyes warm that glitter in the sun, so unlike my dead black ones."

Hoseok looked up to meet his gaze but didn't say a word.

"You're beautiful by all definition I have ever known," he finished quietly.

The Prince didn’t realise how close they were sat until they were staring at each other.

"In the future we value tan skin," Hoseok began, shy, unlike his usual boisterous demeanour. "Cos.. cos it's expensive to travel to places with sun to get a tan, 'specially ones that aren't at war. So... so in the future I'm not attractive but... but you are."

"Don't make things up," Hyunwoo shook his head fondly. It would hardly be logical for the future to value tan skin no matter what Hoseok said.

"You're attractive when you fight. When you move, get lost in the action, show how strong you are- I feel it," The purple-haired boy picked at his nails. "Your eyes are not dead. Just ‘cos you envy my light ones doesn't mean yours aren't beautiful."

Hyunwoo scoffed. "Your eyes are like warm sunlight. Mine are like cold stone."

"Your eyes are deep,” He insisted. “They tell me things when you're quiet like usual. They are fierce when you fight, and they have this.. this childlike wonder when you discover something new."

Encouraged by his calm words the Princes’ heartbeat began to jump and his chest blossomed warm and happy. He rarely got compliments on his appearance, and the fact they were coming from Hoseok made it all the more special.

They fell into comfortable silence soon after. Neither of them wanted to leave.

Never had Hyunwoo been so at ease with another man. Those in his court, if he were discussing matters or even walking for pleasure, were constantly looking for ways to wriggle under his skin and find weakness in the heir to the kingdom. If his father dipped into silence it was because he was about to be scolded, and the servants were expected to be silent in his presence unless otherwise instructed.

It was an entirely foreign feeling having a friend who he could talk to as a man and not as a Prince. There were no boys his age in the royal grounds.

"It's funny, strange boy with purple hair,” he said quietly, leaning his head back on the prop behind them. “I do not talk much to my attendants, my servants or the people in my father's court, but I have no shortage of words around you," A sharp ringing sound cut through the quiet atmosphere and he gave a wry smile, shifting his weight. "Ah. You must go. Practice the stance, remember? Tighten those core muscles. You are already strong, now train your body to be precise-"

A hand was placed on his arm.

Hyunwoo was speechless.

He looked at the pale hand on his tanned skin, where he’d rolled up the sleeves of his robe to garner a little relief from the unrelenting heat. The contact sent shivers of anticipation running across his skin and caused his stomach to curl into nervous waves.

He looked up to meet Hoseok’s gaze.

The boy with purple hair slipped something into his hand without breaking eye contact.

“Same time next week?” Hoseok asked quietly.

“Yes,” Hyunwoo breathed. Their hands were still touching. “I will wait for you here, just like always.”

Hoseok smiled.

And then he was gone.

Disappearing into thin air like so many times before.

When the Prince opened his palm to see what the boy had given him he found a small red chip pressed into his skin, the edges ridged and the shape similar to the object that held the two Koi fish.

Excitement caused his breath to shudder and face pull into a smile. Hoseok had followed through with his promise, had given him another Hologram chip as payment for their fist fight.

Hyunwoo slipped it into the pocket sewn above his heart and went about the day with the edges digging red grooves into his chest. Each time it scraped his skin he grew more impatient, waiting, willing the sun to sink below the horizon faster and allow him to see what he had been given.

Later that night, after he had attended a council meeting with his father and the cicadas had begun their night call, Hyunwoo unwrapped the light mechanism from where he kept it safely in linen by the side of his bed and set it gently on his calligraphy table. After fumbling with the red chip for a few seconds and attempting to work out the angle needed he slot it into the device and sat back to wait.

Knelt in front of the wooden surface, he observed how the object immediately began to whir, strange clicking sounds echoing in the still night of his dimly lit Hanok and small pinpricks of light dotting the wood above. Hyunwoo never got tired of watching the beams shoot their way to the ceiling and dance around each other before coming together to form the creation.

When the contents of the chip finally flickered into existence Hyunwoo scrambled back with a fearful gasp, almost ripping his hanbok and knocking over an open pot of ink.

It was a dragon.

A sleeping dragon, curled into a ball hovering in the air. It’s scales glittered and shifted with each long breath, it’s back was covered in spikes and its nose grew two long coils that burned with gentle fire.

A dragon. Hoseok had given him a dragon just like the ones from the legends.

When his heart had calmed he shifted closer to stare at the manifestation of shifting light, holding his breath when the creature opened a lazy eye and it glittered like an emerald jewel.

The dragon was beautiful.

Hyunwoo watched the animal with wonder in his eyes. His awe even grew when it stretched its wings drowsily before taking off in gentle flight, the shifting beams of light following as it flew smoothly around his room.

Despite the initial fear Hyunwoo grew to love the dragon that night. He watched it walk with aged grace, watched it fly in circles before settling down to sleep, watched smoke coil from its mouth and the light flicker around the edges of it’s being.

When the orange-red hues of sunrise seeped through the window of his Hanok and coloured the wood a blood-rose, Hyunwoo shut off the light mechanism and climbed into bed. He would be tired the next day, but he didn’t mind. Not when the boy from the future had given him a dragon made of light and fish who could swim in the sky.


	5. hunger, pain, hurting

Over the next few months late spring slowly faded into early summer. The pink cherry blossoms that dotted the kingdom gave way to bundles of lush green leaves and the delicate white flowers of rice plants gave way to rolling fields of foliage as the sun stayed for longer in the sky and the temperatures rose past comfortable. Birds began their call earlier, cicadas chirped with more excitement during the night, and Hyunwoo began to spend most of his time greeting those who had come to stay for his twentieth summer celebration. They were mostly rich families from other allied districts along with the occasional elder. It was part of his duty that he didn’t mind, but each long hot week dragged until he could see Hoseok again and lose himself in his warm eyes.

Hoseok was mastering the art of Bongtoogi at such an exceptional pace Hyunwoo was sure he was practising outside of their sessions. After another four weeks he could actively engage in combat so long as Hyunwoo withheld his own strength, and after another three he was able to hold his own against his attacks.

Hoseok still couldn’t beat him. But then again, only his trainer could do that.

They began to talk more throughout their fights. It would be a match on the mat, a conversation as they cooled down, perhaps a run through of sets as Hyunwoo shouted commands and occasionally they brought out the prop. It was so easy to fall into a routine with Hoseok, so easy to let go of all restraints of being a Crown Prince and instead just be Hyunwoo. A Hyunwoo who could laugh at jokes and poke fun at mistakes and tell stories of the times he had travelled as a young boy. It never even crossed the Princes mind that the boy was from a time a thousand years in the future simply because he was his friend.

Each session Hoseok taught Hyunwoo new words that felt foreign on his tongue. He learnt about Aeroplanes - flying machines that transported people across the world. He learnt about Electricity - a magical energy that could create light through metal and powered the whole world in the future. Hoseok told him that the light mechanism was powered by a Super Battery, which was a storage of Electricity that could last for a hundred years.

Hyunwoo never knew what he was talking about but he listened in awe every time.

Because of the extra fighting with Hoseok and the nighttime light distractions he grew even more tired throughout the day, so much so his father asked after a Court meeting had adjourned whether or not he was fit for the tight schedule he was on. Hyunwoo had assured him that he was fine and that he would take time to himself to rest, procuring the excuse that the summer heat had always left him drowsy and unable to focus.

It was Koi fish and sleeping dragons that kept him up at night.

That and the thought of warm brown eyes and bright purple hair.

On what might have been their eleventh meeting Hoseok appeared just like usual - in a quiet exhale of air while Hyunwoo waited on his knees. They smiled at each other, Hyunwoo’s heart jumped into his throat at his beauty, and then they busied themselves with their routine. The Prince explained what the session held for them while Hoseok removed his layered clothes and put on the royal fighting robe. 

When Hyunwoo offered to tie the belt after he saw Hoseok was struggling, the boy laughed and let him take control. Slowly but surely he wrapped the fabric around his waist, gently looping it at the back and trying not to fall headfirst into the familiar comforting smell of smoke and metal.

With a frown Hyunwoo noticed how he had to pull tighter on the belt to fit his already slim waist.   
  
"You've lost weight," he said, stepping away from the knot with concern evident in his voice.   
  
"Food is scarce," Hoseok shrugged as if it was nothing, weighing the fighting stick in his hand. His voice was strained. "I can't buy rations from markets if I'm not in the system. I'm used to stealing, but securities been amped up in all districts."   
  
"Hoseok," Hyunwoo’s voice was filled with pity. Hoseok didn’t meet his eyes. “I didn’t realise it was that difficult.”   
  
“Life’s tough as a cyber street rat, but I’m tougher. Promise.” He took a deep breath and forced a casual grin. "Please. Don't worry. Let's just fight, okay? I’ve been waiting for this all week, it’s the only thing that keeps me going."

Hyunwoo’s eyes widened. It was the only thing that kept him going? Before he’d been under the impression that only he felt that way but apparently he had been mistaken.

“Don’t be flattered, Poddie,” Hoseok said, and this time he was grinning, a way to lighten the atmosphere. “I’m gonna beat you one day.”   
  
“Be quiet, Dwelly,” Hyunwoo shot back and Hoseok laughed that brilliant laugh that made him seem like sunlight.   
  
Hoseok was lacking when he fought. He didn’t have enough energy, it was obvious after only a few rounds. Despite him having improved his heavy-footed movements the past few weeks and leaning to disguise his thought process through trick manoeuvres of his body, Hoseok constantly lost focus and at one point even stumbled over his own feet.

Hyunwoo felt helpless watching him. As usual, the boy from the future did not give up. Even though he was clearly weak and in no condition to fight the fire behind his eyes did not cease to burn, for upon stumbling he immediately righted himself, tightened his grip on his stick, and engaged Hyunwoo in combat once again.

When they bid farewell Hoseok’s eyes did not sparkle like they used to. Instead they glinted dully and his exhaustion was more than just physical.

The next week, Hyunwoo prepared food for Hoseok.   
  
On the morning of their usual meeting the Crown Prince rose early, just as the sky had been washed out by light blues and the air was fresh with dew and not heavy with heat. Before his usual training session with Kim, he found his way to the kitchens and asked the cooking women to prepare for him three packs of steamed rice, kimchi rolls and dried meat. Despite being understandably surprised at having been called upon so suddenly the women did their best, and when Hyunwoo went to collect his request later he found the bundle also contained sweet potatoes rolled within linen next to honey, seasoning and herbs, all packed neatly into a woven basket.   
  
When Hoseok appeared at midday Hyunwoo had the basket of food placed next to where he knelt. In front of him lay a folded embroidered silk handkerchief with freshly stewed kimchi rolls set prettily on top.   
  
"What's that?" Hoseok's familiar rough voice sounded confused when he stepped into view.    
  
"This is for you," Hyunwoo smiled. When Hoseok grew more perplexed the Prince pat the ground in front of him. “Kneel. You must be proper.”

Cautious, Hoseok followed his orders, kneeling in front of him dressed in his dirty harnessed clothes, baggy bottoms and Jacket. His eyes were wary and he was obviously uncomfortable in the formal position but did not complain.

When Hyunwoo gently held a slice of the kimchi up - cupping the bottom to avoid dropping the vegetables on the wooden floor - and encouraged Hoseok to eat it, the boy shook his head and length away.   
  
"I can't accept this-" he began to protest but Hyunwoo spoke over him in calm tones.   
  
"Eat, future boy." The Prince held up the kimchi roll to his mouth. "You need energy to fight or you shall lose."

Hoseok hesitated. There was a flash of something in his eyes, and then he was opening his mouth and letting Hyunwoo feed him.   
  
The almost frantic way he chewed and swallowed and then opened his mouth for more was upsetting. How hungry was he? Hyunwoo's heart ached. The future seemed like a bleak place.   
  
After Hyunwoo had fed him almost half the roll and the boy had slowed down his chewing, he turned and offered the basket to him. "This is for your return.” With a mouth half full from food, Hoseok went to reject it but the Prince held up a hand. “Ah! Do not object - it is in the name of friendship. I have steamed rice, enough for a few days, along with kimchi rolls, seasoning, herbs, dried meat that is preserved for at least a month and three sweet potatoes the size of your foot." 

After his speech the demeanour of crown Prince slipped from his shoulders and he hunched over nervously. "I don't know if it is enough but.. but I want to help however I can," he said quietly, offering the basket. “You are my friend, my only real friend, strange boy from the future. I would do anything to make sure you were safe.”

The silence was unbearable. Hyunwoo couldn't help but regret the slip of his tongue, but when he eventually raised his head to meet the other boy's gaze his eyes glittered with tears.

Slowly but surely, Hoseok took the basket in his pale hands.   
  
"Thank you Hyunwoo," his eyes glistened in the sunlight, vulnerable and pained. “Really, thank you.”

All of a sudden the Prince's stomach gave an embarrassing rumble and the intimate moment shattered into a million pieces like dropped ceramic. Hoseok shook his head with a grin. "Here, Poddie, you should eat too," he said, holding up one of the leftover kimchi rolls.   
  
Hyunwoo laughed and accepted the kimchi gratefully, eyes widening in comic shock when he felt grains of rice fall messily down his hanbok.   
  
"I never knew a Crown Prince to be so messy," the purple haired boy laughed. Hyunwoo's heart jumped into his throat when he began dabbing at his face with the corner of his sleeve. He was so gentle, so tender as he rubbed at the spot and bit his own lip in the process.   
  
Up close Hoseok smelt like burnt ceramics. His eyes were warm like sunlight, and Hyunwoo found himself staring at his mouth parted slightly in concentration. Long lips, stretched across the top, pink and pretty and pouty when speaking.   
  
He cleared his throat and stood up abruptly.   
  
"We should fight, should we not?" he said, brushing down his robe as a distraction and ignoring how disgruntled he felt.

“Hyunwoo?” 

At the sound of his name he looked up with wide eyes, only to freeze when he felt arms wrap around his neck.

A hug. Hoseok was hugging him.

People did not hug - at least, they didn’t hug Hyunwoo. It was disrespectful and used only showing comradery with close friends. Because he did not have any close friends, only acquaintances living in the palace grounds, it was rare for him to be touched unless it was his assistants dressing him in the morning.

But Hoseok was not from his time, and he supposed that in a future as bleak as the one he travelled from, perhaps humans needed the comfort of a hug more often.

Slowly but surely the Prince let his arms wrap around his waist, relaxing into the embrace and inhaling the familiar scent of burnt metal and soot. Hoseok was warm and comforting and while it took a few moments for the awkwardness to ease out of his limbs Hyunwoo did not want to pull away. Not at all. He wanted to stay in that moment forever, with purple hair tickling his cheek and arms wrapped around his neck.

After what could have been years but was most likely only seconds, Hoseok pulled away and offered a grin. “So. Shall we fight?”

“If you're ready to lose, future boy,” Hyunwoo threw the jab with an unsteady grin, hoping his boisterous words smoothed over the hotness of his cheeks.

Throughout the entire session the blush did not fade from his skin and he couldn't help but ache to hold the other boy again before he disappeared into thin air.

The next week, Hyunwoo packed another bundle of food for his friend from the future. It included more rice as well as newly ripened fruit since the other boy had mentioned the lack of fresh food available in the future. Knelt by the door just like always, with a meal of Kimchi in front of him and the woven basket to his side, Hyunwoo waited for his friend the twelfth week in a row.

When the breath of air stirred in the still room he opened his eyes with a smile only to find the training room empty like before.

Hoseok hadn’t stepped in front of him and his heart stopped. He  _ always _ walked by his right side, always.

When Hyunwoo turned to look at him his stomach dropped dead to the floor.

"Hoseok?" he breathed.   
  
The boy was pale - paler than he'd ever seen him, a sheen of sweat layered on his sickly skin and the bags under his eyes a ghastly shade of green. He stood, swaying gently, eyes unfocused and mouth parted, before stepping forward and collapsing to his knees.   
  
"Hoseok!" Hyunwoo called and immediately scrambled to catch him before he hit the ground with a thud. As it was he only just managed to hold onto his shoulders before he fell flat on the wooden floor. Panic set in when Hoseok looked at him with confused eyes, and he grew even more distressed when he realised the jacket he wore was burnt and smelt of smoke. “What happened? Hoseok, Hoseok, oh no-”

“I’m fine,” the ashen boy breathed through grit teeth and yet his face paled at the words.   
  
"Tell me, now. What is wrong? How can I help?” Hyunwoo held his shoulders and searched his eyes in fear. “Who did this to you? Will you be alright?”

“I’m fine- I- ah-” Hoseok winced and seemed to gesture to his torso. “My- My chest, it- gun- burnt-”

“Gun? Burnt? Is it because of the bad men? Is the future at war?”   
  
"The future is always at war," Hoseok said bitterly, but his voice sounded more pained than angry. "I... I almost got caught- ah-" he grimaced. "Laser gun. Short circuit type-  _ ah _ \- right in the chest-"

Hyunwoo was panicked and began to tug on the other boy's jacket. “Take this off, now. I must tend to your injury-”

Hoseok shook his head slowly, almost delirious, and weakly batted away his hands. “What about the fight? I came here to fight-”

“We cannot fight with you like this!” the Prince’s voice was almost hysterical. “Please, let me help. Trust me.”

Slowly but surely Hoseok let Hyunwoo remove his jacket, wincing as he moved his shoulders but able to hold his own where he knelt. At least he wasn’t as close to collapsing before.

Hyunwoo sucked in a breath when he inched the undershirt over the boys head and sat back to observe the injury.

It was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. Many times in his youth, when his father was still establishing power and they were at war with the Silkka district, he had seen warriors march home with their arm in a bloody sling or gashes on their cheek. This, however, was no simple cut or break. He almost had to hold back a gag.

The front of his torso was bruised dreadfully badly with patches of skin peeling around a scathing area of mottled red and brown. In the centre of the hit, off to the left side of his chest, there was a charred black circle etched into his skin. A burn.

"I was lucky it wasn't fully charged," Hoseok breathed. "I'd be dead.”   
  
"You escaped with this injury?" Hyunwoo ran his fingers lightly over the bruising but pulled back when the boy winced. After a few seconds of deliberation, he jumped from the ground. "Stay here."

He was gone before the boy could protest. Running towards the west wing of the Palace Grounds, ignoring the strange looks he got from attendants and visitors alike, he was a blur of royal blue robes improper for outside the training room and bare feet on the dirt paths. Hyunwoo had never run across the palace grounds before, having been taught the proper way to behave, but no petty manners were going to get in the way of helping his friend.

After raiding the medicinal storage he turned on his heel and ran once again, arms full of supplies and brain racing. Hoseok’s sickly face looked up at him in surprise when he barged back into the training room but he hadn’t moved from his awkward kneeling position and he watched the Prince lay out the supplies before pouring ointment onto a cloth.    
  
"Shh,” he hissed when Hoseok opened his mouth. “Don't talk, sit cross-legged. I must concentrate.”

Hoseok did as he was told, grimacing in pain as he moved.   
  
"In my jacket- ah- there's healing patches,” He inhaled sharply when Hyunwoo began dabbing at the charred black skin with a mix of herbs and ointment. The pain was obviously excruciating and his hands curled into tense fists at his side. “Use them.” he choked out through clenched teeth.   
  
Quick to work, Hyunwoo felt like crying the entire time he cleaned the wound and forced Hoseok to suck on the plants he usually used for headache relief. There was no mention of future ointments or dressings that he could use to lighten the pain but with a sinking heart Hyunwoo realised that even if such items existed Hoseok could not even find food, let alone medicine. The future was a terrible, terrible place.

Figuring out just how the healing patches worked was difficult. He needed to peel back a clear layer of some alien sounding material and then stick the edges around the wound. Luckily the skin had not been broken, only burnt, and so Hoseok only winced when he smoothed the patch over and then sighed in pained relief.   
  
"We shall not fight today, Hoseok. You are in no condition to,” Hyunwoo said sternly, tidying up the medical supplies before helping the injured boy to his unsteady feet. It didn’t seem logical to sit in the centre of the mat, and so he carefully walked them to where they could lean against the wooden wall and hopefully offer some relief after allowing the boy to slowly put his top back on. “Why did you even travel here if you knew you were hurt? Are you a fool?"   
  
"I missed you," Hoseok settled against the wood with a pained expression. "I didn't wanna leave you waiting."   
  
"You don't have to hurry back the past, Hoseok," Hyunwoo sat down next to him. "I would wait many lifetimes just to fight with you."

“Time isn't kind to me.”

“Time brought you to me,” Hyunwoo replied simply.   
  
"I don't want to go back," the boy with purple hair whispered. When the Prince turned to look at him in surprise, he found his pale cheek glistening with something that wasn’t sweat. Hoseok was crying? He never cried. He was the strongest person Hyunwoo knew and the sight hurt his heart. "They think I died when they shot me. I don't know how much longer I can hide."   
  
"Can't you ask the owner of the watch for help?"   
  
"Me, a Roamer? No," Hoseok shook his head with a bitter laugh. “Chae said.. last time I asked for help, he said he didn't have time for people like me. The creator of time couldn't even give me a moment.”

“Chae does not sound very nice.”

“Depends which Chae you meet,” he said quietly. “He’s existed at almost all points of history. If you meet early in his timeline he is kind. But.. later? Not so much.”

Hyunwoo didn't know what to say. He didn't really understand.

Lulled into hopeless silence by the boy’s laboured, pained breathing, he could only think. It was hard to think when their shoulders were leant against each other and all he wanted to do was take the other boy's suffering away. In fact, Hyunwoo would do anything to make his friend feel better. The future seemed terrible and he didn’t want Hoseok hurting anymore.   
  
"Stay," Hyunwoo whispered quietly, not thinking about his words. “Stay with me forever, then you can’t get hurt.”

Hoseok’s eyes fluttered closed and he sighed. “I wish I could,” he said quietly, regretfully, not even questioning why Hyunwoo would ask.

They leant against the wood for what seemed like aeons, next to each other, unspeaking. Outside the training room door there lay a world of Princes’ and kingdoms and servants and responsibilities. In this room, Hyunwoo was just Hyunwoo, a boy scared for his friend.

When his eyes flickered towards the wooden training room floor his heart jumped into his chest. Hoseok’s pale hand lay against the wooden floor, open and inviting, so perfectly poised. His fingernails were dirty and his ivory skin showing rivers of veins snaking up his arm. The colours danced pretty in the midday sunlight.

Slowly, cautiously, Hyunwoo reached out his tan hand and slid it along his forearm. The breathing of the other boy stuttered and the Prince observed how the muscles grew taught under the touch, watching in fascnation as his pulse gently throbbed under his thumb. Hoseok's skin was so smooth and comforting and warm that he only hesitated a moment before tenderly slipping his palm against the other and entwining their fingers together.

Hoseok didn’t say a word when they held hands. Suspended in an unfamiliar in between, the Prince wondered if what he was doing was wrong, until the other boy just sighed contently and ran his thumb over Hyunwoo's knuckles.

It couldn't be wrong when they fit together so perfectly.

Hyunwoo had never heard of two men holding hands but maybe things were different in the future.

The time passed slowly, them both watching the dust swirl in the filtered sunlight hitting the mat and listening to the laboured breathing of the boy next to him. His hand was warm and smooth against the calluses Hyunwoo had garnered through seven years of fighting; a strange contrast, but one that felt right.

“Don't go back,” Hyunwoo whispered when Hoseok subtly checked his watch.

“Please, Hyunwoo..” Hoseok looked torn and his voice was strained.

“You never say my name,” The Prince smiled wistfully. He knew how pointless it was to ask. “I like it when you say my name. I don't understand why, I just… I just do.”

There was a long pause. Hoseok stopped stroking his hand.

“Do you… are you interested in anybody?” he asked quietly, breathing less strained than before. “Like.. love wise?”

“What a strange question to ask,” Hyunwoo said in reply.

“You're a Crown Prince,” Hoseok explained shyly. “Surely you must marry sometime.”

“Shouldn't you know who I marry? You've read about my life in the history books after all.” Hyunwoo shot him a teasing grin and, while he was happy to see his face less ashen than before, there was an unreadable pain glittering just beyond the glaze of his amber eyes. “I've never had any interest in women. Someday I guess I will, but for now? I just want to prove myself worthy as king. Worthy as my father's son.”

“I think you'd be the best king.”

“That makes one of us,” Hyunwoo cleared his throat and dropped his eyes. “I'm so scared, Hoseok. I know.. the future seems far more dangerous than my present but.. but if I can't show my worth then who am I really? You say they still tell tales of my greatness but.. What if I can’t live up to that? What if I ruin history?”

Hyunwoo had never voiced his fears like that. It felt strange, how light his chest floated to the heavens as if his problems had melted like snow in the springtime. 

“You're Hyunwoo,” Hoseok said simply, and the Prince's’ heart ran like a horse when he felt his hand being held tighter. “The best fighter I've ever known.”

“The only fighter you've ever known.”

“You got me there Poddie.”

Hyunwoo smiled.

The watch rang.

Hoseok looked at his wrist and sighed, slowly letting go of Hyunwoo’s hand to fiddle with the object. He did so with reluctance as if it wasn’t what he wanted.

“Stay,” the Prince repeated, this time more forcefully. “Stay with me. Don't go back there, you might get hurt again-”

“It's fine Hyunwoo,” Hoseok turned with a wince and clasped his hands in his. “I'll find a doctor when I get back, promise. He can fix me up good and we can be fighting just like usual next week, hm?”

When Hoseok let go of his hands Hyunwoo gasped upon realising there was a black chip pressed into his skin.

“Another one?” he stared at the slate in awe. “But we didn't even fight.”

“I know,” Hoseok smiled sadly. “But I wanted you to see.”

They made eye contact.

Hoseok opened his mouth as if he were about to say something else.

And then he was gone.

Hyunwoo’s hand felt cold without Hoseok there to hold.

Later that night Hyunwoo sat knelt in his Hanok, the light mechanism placed in the middle of the table and the new slate Hoseok had given him held delicately in his fingertips. This one had a lining of yellow painted along one side and a few strange markings scratchd into the pigment.

Knelt in front of his table, he slot it into the side of the object and pressed the button with his finger.

The light flooded the room. It started just like usual, the beams settling on the ceiling as the contraction whirred and then they began moving, forming, dimming as they took shape. Hyunwoo watched in amazement as the landscape made itself visible, the tiny blocks of light forming what looked like buildings the shape of square wooden pillars and each of them dotted with millions of pinpricks of light. There were strange roads held up by supports that snaked their way through the scenery and long coils hanging across each pathway.

The foreign numbers blinked at him and as he watched they began to change, flicking up at a steady pace and tracking time.

Tracking time. The time  _ now _ , in the future.

Hoseok had given him a light picture that showed him what his living place looked like as it existed. This is what Hoseok had called his City.

The letters read Seoul.

Seoul.

Hyunwoo stared at Seoul with sparkles in his eyes, gaze wide and mouth parted in awe. Strange carts flew through the air and whizzed along cables strewn between buildings. Light decorated every aspect of the night scene, blaring from windows and huge flat objects that seemed to show people talking and holding up clothes. Smoke poured from the top of one pillar and there were boxes piled high with walking supports between them.

Seoul was beautiful.

Strange. Foreign. Hyunwoo didn't understand how anybody could live in a place as crowded as that, but it was where Hoseok lived, and that made it beautiful.

He wondered where the bad men were, the one that Hoseok was running from, the ones that had hurt him and taken away his food. Given the chance Hyunwoo would keep the boy from the future by his side all the time. They could share a Hanok and even a bed so that they could watch the Holograms by each other’s side until sunrise. The Prince could show him the gardens and teach him how to ride a horse and attend festivals with him stood to his right. He wondered just how the elders, the court members and his father would react upon seeing a man as beautiful as Hoseok with their very own eyes.

If Hoseok stayed with him, he could become a living legend. The most beautiful man in all of Korea. The records would tell stories of his beautiful light eyes and china skin and artists would be unable to capture his features on parchment.

The future seemed a bleak place despite Seoul lighting up his hanok like the lanterns of festivals. It seemed a horrible time to live.

Maybe sometime soon, Hoseok would choose to stay with him and escape his reality.

Hyunwoo hoped he would. He hoped with all his heart.


	6. the first, the last

It took five weeks for Hoseok to begin to fight again. 

Five weeks filled not with them practicing on the mat or Hyunwoo yelling move commands at him, but five weeks of rest. Of Hoseok appearing every session with his face less ashen and body less pained, five weeks of them sat leant against the training room wall talking, laughing and learning about one another.

They liked to sit in silence a lot. The Prince saw how his friend’s face grew more ashen and the dark shadow crescents etched themselves into the soft skin of his undereye so he did not engage in conversation for fear of hurting him further. 

It became natural for Hyunwoo to take the other boys’ hand during those five weeks. Neither of them mentioned it, but on the third session - when Hoseok had began to move his without spasms wracking his body and breath jerking in pain - the boy with purple hair slowly lay his head on his shoulder. His hair tickled Hyunwoo’s neck and he smiled at the feeling.

On the fourth session Hyunwoo gently slipped his arm around his shoulder. No forethought went into the action, it simply felt like the right thing to do, and feeling the warmth pool in his chest as Hoseok heaved a happy sigh and leant into his torso he knew it was right. The comforting smell of soot and burnt metal mixed with the blooming flowers of summer and the heavy heat of sun to bring about his own short sleep too.

Hyunwoo thought he had finally found happiness when Hoseok slept in his arms like the Gods had whispered peaceful dreams in his ear. He couldn’t explain it but it felt right.

The Prince thought he could sit there listening to Hoseok’s gentle breathing for the rest of his life and he would not complain once.

However, like all good things, their happiness couldn’t last.

As the festival approached Hyunwoo began to grow stressed.

It was of no fault of those around him but it seemed everybody wanted his attention. His trainer insisted he rose an hour earlier for his routine practice, his attendants constantly took measurements and showed him silk fabrics for his garments, his father encouraged him to walk with those who were visiting and establish cross-country relations. Despite the tough schedule and heavy, hot summer days, Hyunwoo followed through with every request asked of him and even found that those in foreign Councils were willing to strike up alliances if he proved himself at the festival.

Every time somebody so much as mentioned the festival in passing his neck grew taught and headache throbbed. He was just so  _ tired _ \- he didn’t have the energy to care about what colour the banners were or whether the lanterns should be floated or flown. It took everything professional in him to offer his attendants a smile when all he wanted to do was lock himself in the training room with Hoseok for as long as it took his twentieth summer celebration to pass.

A week before it was due to take place Hyunwoo was taking a walk through the gardens with his father much like he used to do when he was young. Surrounded by scurrying attendants and lead by a line of eunuchs, father and son walked the garden path side by side, a parasol keeping them cool.

“Have you decided on the colour of the banners?” His father asked airily, observing the gardens through the adornments of his hat.

  
“Yes, father, I have. I was thinking white for the banners - simply white linen. It wouldn’t distract from the ceremony too much and would lighten the atmosphere of the dirt paths,” Hyunwoo replied, stomach churning at the thought of his father's approval.

The old man smiled. “That is a good idea. I’m glad you have lived up to expectations.”

Hyunwoo let out a relieved breath. He was performing well so far.

“What about the visitors? Are there any you have taken a liking to?” his father continued calmly. “It is important as Crown Prince to make relations, that is why I have encouraged so many meetings.”

“Of course father, I understand completely,” Hyunwoo walked beside him, nodding his head in agreement. They were rapidly approaching the bamboo forest and he was looking forward to the cool shadow settling on his burning skin. “As a matter of fact, Lee from the Eikkaso district and I have been talking about a possible unification of the trade system, and Jongsuk has proposed an alliance in currency-”

Hyunwoo stopped dead in his tracks.

Something had moved in the forest. 

“Hyunwoo?” His father called back, a concerned frown on his wrinkled face. The Prince simply stared in fear at the foliage around him. He could have sworn - no. No, it was impossible.

“Sorry father. I was distracted by the flowers.” He turned back and gave a small bow as apology.

“Remember what eunuch told you, Hyunwoo?”

“Yes father,” he sighed at the scolding but his mind lingered on what he had seen. “Do not get distracted by pretty things.”

When they had finally looped the bamboo forest and were making their way through the huts of the outer Palace grounds Hyunwoo realised his shadow was directly below him. It had been following his every footstep and the attendant shielding the heat with a parasol was having to stretch awkwardly to ensure no summer rays touched his already tan skin. With a sinking of his stomach he peered around the side of the parasol and his heart stopped beating at what he saw.

The sun had reached the highest point in the sky.

He was late. He’d left Hoseok alone in the training room. After a frantic look at his father he realised he couldn’t excuse himself before their walk was done and yet he itched to parade faster so he could find Hoseok and explain. What if somebody reached the training room without him in there? What if Hoseok left before he could visit him?

It was during this panic, when he was searching the grounds for a possible distraction and only absentmindedly listening to his father, that he saw him.

A flash of purple running through a doorway.

Hoseok had left the training room.

Hoseok was roaming the Palace Grounds. The thought left Hyunwoo dumbfounded - didn’t he know how dangerous that was? What if somebody else saw him?

“Hyunwoo?” His father turned back to look at him again.

“I’m sorry father.” He levelled a deep bow and started to back away. “I’ve just- there’s something I’ve forgotten, I need to- uh- check on a plan- for the- the festival..” he trailed off and inwardly winced at the informal tone of his voice.

His father frowned and his weathered gaze took in his obviously panicked demeanour and fearful flashing eyes. 

The silence stretched on for what felt like years until, finally, the old man offered a kind smile and even a small nod. “Of course, Son. You are almost twenty, after all. Please, go, do not let my age keep you waiting.”

His father had always been understanding but this excuse was uncalled for. Hoseok could have hugged him.

It took a few minutes for Hyunwoo to find Hoseok. After instructing his attendants to stay with his father he broke away from the procession and quickly found himself wandering the halls of the Hanok he’d seen the flash of purple hair in. There were not many times the Prince was alone simply due to his status and so it was strange to hurry through such familiar walls in a blur of summer robes. However, when he found a handprint of soot on one of the connection supports, he knew he was going in the right direction.

As he turned the corner into the final room a pale hand reached out and grabbed his hanbok, dragging him to the side and out into a small alcove tucked just between the buildings. The ground was rock beneath them and the sun was shielded by the rooftop overhang. It was a secluded space, one even Hyunwoo didn’t know existed.

Hyunwoo stumbled and gasped, stomach tumbling and eyes frantic, before steadying his balance and realising just who had pulled him.

“Hoseok!” he began breathlessly, eyes searching his tattered clothes before landing on his warm eyes. “What are you doing out of the training room? What if somebody saw you?”

“Shh, shh! Keep it down.” Hoseok shot a furtive look through the small gap where attendants could be seen walking the grounds. “You were late.” He poked him in the chest accusingly.

“I didn’t mean to be, I’m so sorry Hoseok,” Hyunwoo apologised, chest aching at how upset the other boy looked. “My father- he was busy talking about the celebrations-”

“Celebrations?” Hoseok frowned.

“For my Twentieth summer. It is happening next week, I was meant to tell you today but I got held up,” Hoseok’s eyes widened in surprise and then his brow furrowed again. He was mad. “It won’t happen again-”

“I was alone,” he pouted, not meeting his gaze and instead kicking at the ground. “I appeared and you weren't knelt waiting for me. I thought.. I was worried. I thought you didn’t want to meet me anymore.”

Hyunwoo’s heart must have broken and scattered on the floor. Without thinking, he took Hoseok’s hands and clasped them within his own. “Hoseok, I would always wait for you, no matter if it were our training room or elsewhere,” his eyes flickered to where his calloused tan hands grasped soft pale ones. “Return to the mat. I will be with you as soon as possible, I must finish my conversation with my father beforehand.”

The boy with purple hair relaxed into his grip and looked up at him with scepticism clearly rooted in his gaze. “You promise?”

“I promise.” Hyunwoo squeezed his hands.

It was then that Hoseok wrapped his arms around his neck and held him close. His breath tickled Hyunwoo’s neck from where his hair was scraped into a ponytail and he smelt like all those times in the airy training room where Hyunwoo could just be himself.

Without hesitation the Prince relaxed into his grip, wrapping arms around his waist and breathing in his scent. They were a perfect fit.

“You’re so emotional,” he teased and the atmosphere lightened immediately.

“Be quiet Poddie,” Hoseok pulled back from the hug and offered a grin. “I’ll be in the training room, yeah? You’re going down this time.”

“Whatever you say, Dwelly.”

Hoseok laughed.

Even in the shadow, his laugh looked like sunlight.

When the Prince had finished his round with his father the sun had just dipped below midday. By his calculations there was only a short time left before Hoseok had to leave and so he hurried himself to the training room as soon as the procession adjourned. Once there he found the other boy knelt on the mat where he usually was, royal robe already tied, stick placed neatly in front of him.

It was almost professional the way he sat and waited.

Hyunwoo was so proud of how far he’d come.

“Are you ready to lose, Princey?” Hoseok laughed, spinning his stick in circles while Hyunwoo hurriedly tied his belt and looped his hair into a bun. “I’m gonna beat you this time, I swear it,.

“You have said that every day for the past month, Hoseok,” Hyunwoo picked up his stick with a flourish and slot his helmet on his head. “You have yet to follow through. On the count of three!” The Prince adjusted his grip and set his stance right. “One… two...”

“Three!” Hoseok called and struck forward immediately. The surprise left Hyunwoo deflecting it in panic and spinning away on the mat.

“That was unfair!” he exclaimed, dancing back and forth on his feet, sizing up the determined gaze burning through Hoseok’s mask as well as the playful grin.

“You must fight like it’s art, Hyunwoo!” Hoseok called, mocking him, making the Prince laugh in return. Nobody was allowed to talk to him like that except Hoseok. His informal words washed over his body and left him excited and nervous and comforted all at the same time.

The boy with purple hair was a blur on the mat, matching Hyunwoo’s speed no matter what he threw at him. If the Prince side-stepped with a feint attack, he countered with a spin and undershot. If he lanced forward in a quick strike, he was engaged in combat immediately and their sticks echoed loud in the room.

Hoseok was  _ good _ . 

No longer heavy footed, no longer hinting at his next move with obvious body language, Hyunwoo was having a hard time figuring out his weakness. He had fought with Hoseok for the past few months and he knew his favourite repetitions like they were his own, could map out the movements of his body like muscle memory.

Hoseok was a part of Hyunwoo. They were linked, inexplicably, though their perfect match.

If Hoseok was too heavy on attack, Hyunwoo could match him with defence. If Hyunwoo picked up his speed and forced him into the corner of the mat, Hoseok was nimble and could dance his way to the centre again.

It had only been a few months but Hyunwoo didn’t know who he’d be without Hoseok by his side.

The match reached its peak when Hyunwoo steeled himself with a set of complex rotations, ones he had yet to teach the other boy. He swung up and over and their sticks clashed against each other in quick succession. Hoseok stumbled backwards, barely blocking his attack with a parry, and just when the Prince had thought he’d won suddenly he was reeling from precise snaps of the stick. A right attack- then up- a spin and feint- he whisked himself into a frenzy and felt the panic rise in his throat.

The stick flew out of his hand.

Hyunwoo was on his knees, Hoseok’s weapon placed on his head, both of them panting and exhausted.

Hyunwoo had lost.

“I did it!” Hoseok laughed, voice muffled before he pulled off his helmet in excitement. His eyes sparkled like they couldn’t believe the turn of events. “I did it! I beat you! I won!”

The Prince knelt dumbfounded on the mat. Hoseok had beat him? Nobody ever beat him.

“I won, I won! Ha, take that Poddie!” Hoseok danced around him, smile lighting up his face, purple hair glinting in the airy sunlight of summer.

Despite having lost Hyunwoo couldn’t find it in himself to be mad. In fact, watching Hoseok celebrate his success allowed him to relax and laugh with him. The way his golden eyes lit up with happiness and face crinkled with his smile gripped the Prince’s heart so tight it felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Hyunwoo was reminded of the very first day they met when the day had smelt like pollen and dew and Hoseok had been happy. Simply, purely happy and without the heavy burden that seemed to rest on his shoulders.

Hyunwoo rose slowly, brushing down his robe and watching in fond amusement as Hoseok stopped spinning while laughing and instead turned to face him with a smug grin.

“How does it feel to lose, Princey?” he teased, voice pretty and breathless, eyes lit up like stars.

Hyunwoo chuckled.

“I haven't lost yet,” he grinned mischievously.

Hoseok frowned. “What d’you mean--  _ ah! _ ”

The boy with purple hair let out a sudden yell when Hyunwoo lunged forward and wrapped his arm around his neck, pulling his head forward and rubbing at his hair.

“Hyunwoo! Stop!” Hoseok's attempt to sound serious was drowned out by his sudden laughter. It didn't take long for him to wrestle his foot behind the Prince's shin and drag them both down onto the mat.

All posture fell out of his large frame as they grappled. Hoseok's fingers dug into his side and his elbow pushed at his chest before Hyunwoo dragged him over in a flurry of royal blue robes and laughter.

“Fight like it's the future, time traveller!” he exclaimed, the happiness on Hoseok's face making his stomach turn almost as quickly as their tumbles on the mat.

Winning against Hoseok was easy. He was relaxed, enjoying himself, not particularly attempting to fight back and instead just laughing. When Hoseok ended up on top of him, however, tanned wrists held above his head in pale hands, it only served to be more humorous. Hyunwoo had not been trying nearly as much as he had acted. He was weak for Hoseok.

“I win again,” the beautiful boy grinned. Cheeks flushed a pretty pink and warm breath blown into his face from little pants, thighs either side of his legs in an improper position and chests pressed close, Hyunwoo was suddenly struck by how strange the ordeal was. His heart flipped in his chest like a fish on solid ground searching for air but finding none to breathe.

It was absurd. Nobody else touched the Crown Prince this way for he would not let anybody - the disrespect, combined with the threat, the very notion that anybody below him in the hierarchy could treat him such a way was unheard of.

Except it wasn't absurd with Hoseok. The boy from the future could tease him, could pull at his hair and insult him with strange words and tackle him to the ground and he would not protest.

Hyunwoo was Hoseok's.

The Prince didn't know what to do at that realisation.

Seeing the beautiful boy above him, head framed in an airy halo of sunlight, magenta hair the colour of blooming hibiscus and orange eyes laced with a halo of yellow, he only wanted to make him happy.

At the sudden twist of his stomach Hyunwoo did the only thing he had been taught - retaliate. With the weight of his larger body he flipped Hoseok over, sliding his legs to hold him down and smoothly flipping his grip so that Hoseok's wrists were caught in his own.

“Actually, I win,” he smiled breathlessly but the exuberant expression faltered into something more nervous at the sight of the boy beneath him. 

His eyes glittered orange like new fall leaves, mouth parted and ash smudged just under his pretty eyelashes. The silence could have been years. Hyunwoo wondered if the watch could pause time as well as move through it.

Then came a pressure on his face and the Prince swore his heart stopped beating.

Hoseok had reached up - slowly, shaking - untangling one of the hands Hyunwoo had held to slip it against the gentle slope of his neck before coming to rest at the corner of his mouth.

Gentle, loving, Hoseok stroked his cheek. The sun lit up his eyes and purple hair, thumb pressing smooth lines into the contour of his cheeks. 

Hyunwoo’s heart flipped and struggled for breath as it drowned on the cobblestone, a fish out of water just trying to live.

A finger slowly dragged across his collarbone, outlined the tendons of his neck exposed by his loose robe. Hyunwoo watched with breath held at the way Hoseok would not meet his stare, following his own movement with lidded, vulnerable eyes.

The Prince inhaled sharply when Hoseok's hand reached up and held the back of his neck. His muscles shook with the force of keeping himself upright.

For a moment, time didn't exist. Only Hoseok did.

Hoseok and his pretty orange eyes and thick frame of lashes and plump tulip lips.

Then he felt his hair cascade around his shoulders and he jumped back with a gasp.

“What was that for?” he exclaimed, obviously flushed as his hair fell in a waterfall around his shoulders and unfurled down his back.

Hoseok shrugged and picked at his robe. “I like you with your hair down.”

Silence.

Should the Prince voice his thoughts aloud? Was it wrong to do so?

Only one way to discover.

“I like you” the Crown Prince whispered, catching the way Hoseok looked up in surprise.

Nerves threatened to strangle him as embarrassed warmth painted his cheeks red.

He didn't say anything in reply.

Hyunwoo realised then it was wrong. He was not meant to  _ like _ Hoseok, not quite like he thought he did. He wasn't meant to have fire light his insides like it did when he was beneath him. He wasn't meant to want to wrap his arms around his tapered waist and inhale the smell of soot and burning metal as they slept in the same bed without robes between them.

It was wrong. No other Crown Prince had taken a man. It was unheard of in history and Hyunwoo was not about to ruin that.

All of a sudden a pale hand tugged on his own and he looked up to find Hoseok offering him a reassuring gaze.

Hyunwoo let them entwine fingers and rose to his feet gracefully.

They did not stop holding hands.

“You said the festival was next week, right?” Hoseok asked quietly. His hands were hot from gripping the stick. “Does that mean you won’t be here to fight?”

“Unfortunately,” Hyunwoo tried not to think about the way their fingers fumbled until the hold was proper. “I must go for preparations as soon as the sun rises. It will be a long day.”

“I’ll miss you,” Hoseok sighed. It seemed dramatic but when the Prince looked closer he saw the refusal to meet his eye and the downturn of his mouth. Upset, his own expression fell because the idea he’d have to go another two weeks without seeing Hoseok left him unsettled.

And then, slow as a lantern catching light or a stream bubbling across flat land, the idea came to him.

“Why don’t you come?” he asked suddenly. Surely it would work, right? Just for one night?

Hoseok dropped his hand and laughed. “Don’t be stupid,”

“No, I’m serious,” Hyunwoo insisted. As the idea ran around his mind the plan came together as if it were meant to be. “I can dress you in traditional gear. My attendants, they have wigs of horse hair, I can say you’re a training partner from the Jjokiri kingdom and that I wish for you to watch with my father-”

“Hyunwoo, please,” Hoseok pleaded, his voice mournful. “Even if that would work, I couldn’t stay.”

“Why not?”

“The watch,” he said sadly, as if that explained everything.

“Please, Hoseok. Surely you could talk to Chae? Surely you could- could interrupt the time loop just once. Just once to stay with me a night,” Hyunwoo held his hand up to his chest, both of them close on the mat, still dressed in their fighter’s robes. His gaze searched Hoseok's, looking for that spark of hope that would mean agreement. “It is the most important night of my life, and you are the most important part of my life,” he said softly. “It wouldn’t feel right without you there.”

There was something pained in the other boy's eyes. It was as if he knew something that he wasn’t telling which was silly to Hyunwoo since he was just asking him to stay for a night. What could go wrong if Hoseok returned to the future just a day late? Time travel wasn’t that complicated.

The silence was unbearable.

“Okay,” Hoseok breathed.

Hyunwoo’s mouth fell open. “You will?”

“Yeah, okay,” His lips twitched up into a wary smile. “I’ll talk to Chae, I’ll.. I’ll do it. For you.”

The happiness that flooded his body was indescribable. Hoseok was going to spend the night with him? He was going to see him perform? Maybe he could meet his father! Maybe, just maybe, this would be the catalyst that encouraged him to stay for good.

Hyunwoos’s arms were wrapped around Hoseok’s waist and he was spinning, the other boy laughing and clinging to his shoulders, feet flying in the air, body pressed close. It took a few seconds for the Prince to realise what he was doing and when he did he immediately apologised and set Hoseok down. He was often improper with Hoseok, but never had he been that informal.

As they stood, breathless, Hyunwoo’s face warm, he noticed Hoseok's hands were resting on his chest and his own held his waist. The other boy was so close.

Hoseok was the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. Seeing him up close he could count the moles on his face, watch the gentle part of his lips and the trusting nature of his golden eyes.

There was a strand of purple hair hanging over his eyes. Without thinking, the Prince slowly reached up to push back the bright colour and tuck it behind the pale, prominent ears.

His hand lingered on his flushed cheek.

Time froze around them. No sound could be heard, not to Hyunwoo, who was focused on the gentle part of Hoseok's lips and the vulnerable shine of his usually mischievous eyes.

The Prince had never heard of a kiss between two men. That was reserved for husband and wife.

But he wanted to kiss Hoseok.

The realisation terrified him.

All of a sudden Hoseok cleared his throat and stepped away. By the way he brushed down his robe and disregarded eye contact it was easy to tell he was flustered. Hyunwoo wanted to hold him again. “How will this work, then?”

“The festival starts at sunset,” the Prince began. “There will be speeches from the Elders, my father will address the villagers, and then I will perform my dance-”

“You’re performing?”

“Yes,” Hyunwoo smiled nervously and averted his gaze. “I will fight three masters of Bongtoogi in quick succession. They have travelled from all over the country to challenge me.. If I win, I prove myself as Crown Prince-” He took a shuddering breath. “If I don't, I dishonour my father.”

Hoseok was speechless and the worry in his eyes made Hyunwoo chuckle. 

“After that we will float lanterns down the river and release them into the air, thereby calling upon the beginnings of a feast fit for a king. It is a spectacular night.”

“How do I fit in?” The purple-haired boy frowned, obviously perplexed. “What do I do? Won’t it be obvious who I am?”

The Prince frowned. He supposed it would be difficult, but even as the dangers presented themselves he was quick to formulate a plan. “Arrive here at the same time as usual. Due to preparations I won’t be able to meet you beforehand but.. But I will lay out a hanbok for you, sandals as well. Brooches from travels and a Gat with the wig sewn in. The hair will be black and not purple, but should reach your chest at least,”

It was surprisingly simple when spoken out loud. Despite the fear, the uncertainty, Hyunwoo was proud of his impromptu plan. Surely nothing could go drastically wrong? Hoseok was his age - nineteen - he was capable of pulling this off.

“What do I do once I’ve changed?”

“Wait for the sky to bleed orange. Once it does, make your way to the centre of the Palace Grounds. That is where the Festival will take place,” He thought for a moment. “I will be stood by my father in the centre of the royal court. Find a place in the crowd to the right of the Pillar and I shall search for you there.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Hoseok smiled. He looked nervous but took his hands and held them close in comfort. “You’re going to do amazing, Hyunwoo,”

“I’m scared.” The Prince breathed. Expressing such weakness was unlike his character but something about the sincere way Hoseok gripped his hands and held his gaze left him at ease.

“Don’t be,” the boy said softly. “You’re the best fighter I have ever known. Show the kingdom what you show me every week.”

“What if I mess up?” His voice wavered at the open voicing of his worried.

“You won’t, not with me there,” Hoseok took a breath and smiled warmly. The whisper-sweet pressure of hands sliding up his neck to cup his cheeks sent shivers lancing across his tan skin. “If.. if you’re worried.. find me in the crowd. Pretend you’re fighting me and then you’re sure to win.”

The sentiment made Hyunwoo smile. “Thank you Hoseok. For everything. I’ve never.. Never felt this way about somebody before.”

There it was. His inner emotions plucked from his body like feathers from a stalk and laid out on the ground for them all to see. He didn’t know what it meant, what  _ any  _ of it meant, the longing in his chest when they touched or the overwhelming urge to never let him go.

“Me neither,” Hoseok whispered, and he pushed himself up onto his tiptoes whilst guiding Hyunwoo’s head to the side. 

There came the pillow-soft press of his lips to his cheek, and then he was gone.

That evening Hyunwoo felt the imprint of lips burn into the skin of his face as he lay awake in his hanok. There was no need to watch holograms until the sun rose that day, for the thought of Hoseok was enough to keep him awake until dawn rose once again.


	7. if only you stay

The day of Hyunwoo’s twentieth summer was the most elaborate celebration the Son Kingdom had ever seen.

Hyunwoo was woken by the loud call of song the moment the sky bled a watery orange and the cicadas began their morning chorus. Servants dressed him in Royal Blue robes, winding a specially woven silk belt around his tapered waist, pulling his hair into a smooth knot that cascaded down his back before placing the embroidered band of his father’s emblem taught across his forehead.

Much like when he was younger Hyunwoo could barely focus on the events at hand despite their importance. To him the morning prayer, congregation, performance in the courtyard and blessings of the elders were nothing compared to the building excitement of what was to come.

For Hoseok was coming to watch him perform and then he would stay the night.

Hyunwoo made sure to prepare. Between the hurried herding of his assistants the Prince managed to find a small sliver of time in which he could steal away to the waiting ladies storage and slip embellished sandals and a Hanbok in a heavy purple from the piles of imported silks.

Out of all the secret manoeuvres Hyunwoo had executed that day, the choosing of the hat had been his favourite. Located between the river of the Palace grounds and the old residence of his mother (now fringed in the mourning colours of gold and ribbons of white) there sat a small room filled with such beautiful things - the elaborate ones that women wore as well as the stoic, beaded ones of men.

A few had plucked horse hair threaded and sewn into the hems beneath the seams. It was meant to cascade down the backs of the royals; an emphasis on status if it was lacking and an aid for when Royals grew old.

Hyunwoo had chosen one in a pretty lilac rose. The hair had been long and black and silky and easily reached his waist. It moved as if mimicking the gentle spring breeze on a dreamy first moon day.

It was perfect.

He placed all these things gently in the centre of the training room mat. After lovingly smoothing out the creases from the expensive fabric and laying the wig to its full extent Hyunwoo proceeded to return to his Princely schedule - allowing his servants to drape an inky robe over his tan frame just as the sky began to shift from subtle blues to deeper, more violent reds which pressed heavy on his nervous heart.

It was time.

Soon enough his procession had led him to the stone steps that ascended the hilled courtyard and came to stop at a large expanse of dirt. Villagers stood in an ebbing throng of browns and greys and dirty blues and they bowed as Hyunwoo took his place by his father. Each shadow of the darkened square was lit by thousands of orange lanterns flickering under the dusk sky, complemented by the pleasing flutter of white banners.

When the Prince's gaze finally found the golden pillar carved with water-lilies and hyacinth his heart sunk ten feet underground.

Hoseok wasn't there.

Hyunwoo had scanned the entire crowd once, twice, three times, and he wasn't there. Not a single face held those big brown eyes or sculpted jaw, not a single face had skin pale and dirtied and lips long across the top.

Hoseok hadn't come to see him. He hadn't come to watch.

"Are you ready, Hyunwoo?"

His father's weathered voice jerked him out of his reverie but did nothing to quiet the storm in his mind. Where was Hoseok? Had he not cared for the ceremony in the end, despite Hyunwoo’s careful preparation? The murmur of the crowd was growing louder each passing moment but dread sank his heart to the floor.

"Can we not wait a few more moments?" He asked nervously, searching the crowd once again. His hands were folded neatly behind his back from where he stood at the top of the palace steps but his clammy palms shook in their rigid position.

The sound of the gong echoed through the valley and Hyunwoo winced.

"It is time, son," his father smiled knowingly. He assumed his son was nervous to fight - oh how wrong he was.

Hyunwoo swallowed.

Surveying the crowd only bought more fear. The villagers, noble men and courtiers were dressed in their best Hanboks gathered around the marked square that stretched the entire courtyard. It did not take a trained eye to notice how embellished each embroidered cloth or silk sash was. These people were important.

The Prince took a deep, shuddering breath before beginning to descend the steps. Hoseok was not there but he could not wait any longer. Despite how careful he'd been hiding the Hanbok, wig and baji in the training room the boy from the future had not decided to come. That was understandable. He would have to perform without him.

His kingdom watched him as he tied the robe and smoothed the belt with barely steady hands. Heavy eyes burnt holes in his back while he went through the familiar ritual of slipping his helmet over his head and gently grasping the stick. No longer enclosed by the airy ceiling of his training room but exposed to the hot stifling air of peak Korean summer.

He waited in the centre of the arena, breathless, distracted, the crowd around him muffled by his racing mind. Where was Hoseok? He was not by the pillar as he had been instructed. Had he really not cared to watch him? Were Hyunwoo’s feelings - whatever he cared to call them - not reciprocated?

The first opponent stepped onto the cobbled stone. The moonlight glittered on his robe and the crowd roared like a mountain lion.

With a steady exhale the Prince steeled himself for combat, stretching his wrist before weighing the stick between both of his hands. The sound of the gong shattered the tense silence of the crowd and the uproar of shouts signalled the start. Hyunwoo immediately sprung from his position, as did his opponent, and soon they were sparring with light jabs and short breaths. Hyunwoo lost himself in the dance as easily as he had the rest of his life but the lack of amber eyes wormed its way under his hot skin.

After a few moments it was obvious the Prince had the advantage. Even without the encouragement of the man he had wished to be there he found himself disarming the challenger with two upper parrys and left him defeated on his knees.

The second opponent was as easy as the first. A challenger from the northern lands, his technique was good but power lacking. There were no expert manoeuvres or light skipping feet that could outwit the strength and surprising nimbleness of Hyunwoo's body. He was good but not good enough and before the sweat beading on the Prince's forehead could drip down his neck, the gong sounded twice and he had won.

The third challenger stepped into the arena shortly after the second.

The din of the crown broke through Hyunwoos fatigued focus and his stance faltered.

It was Lim Sisheng.

Hyunwoo’s blood ran as cold as the rivers that spilled from frozen mountain tops at the coming of early spring.

The Prince only knew of Lim Sisheng from the ancient scrolls stored within the training room. He was the best of the best, the only fighter known to the entirety of the dynasty. A living legend in the East of Asia, a man of so much glory the myths spoke of all those beaten by him turning to stone in their shame.

Hyunwoo felt his body harden like such stone the moment Lim Sisheng flexed his broad shoulders and the plucked veins on his neck looked as ripe as the apples picked in heavy hot summer. This was the man who he had looked to as inspiration. Never in his live would the Prince have expected him as an opponent.

Lim Sisheng smiled.

Dashingly handsome, terrifyingly dangerous.

The gong sounded and the match began.

Immediately Hyunwoo knew he was at a disadvantage. It was predictably simple, really, to understand that while Hyunwoo may have bested his opponent in suppleness of young limbs or determination to prove himself, he had just participated in two heavy duty, exhausting matches, and coming face to face with a man who had the luxury of relaxation and observance before they even began to spar? It was clear who would win even without the obvious size and skill difference. Lim Sisheng had fought in wars. The only war Hyunwoo had fought was one of forbidden feelings and longing.

Hyunwoo put up a good fight. Defence was his only option and his feet threw up clouds of dust from the arena as he danced from corner to corner, dipping under outstretched blows and spinning from each attack. It was not hard to understand that Lim Sisheng was considered the best when he could use both speed and strength to his advantage, rigidly following each position and repetition like it had been stitched into the seams of his muscles as he had been formed in his mother's womb.

Hyunwoo knew he had lost when Lim had him in the centre of the arena bearing down his stick, inches from the Prince’s forehead as he attempted to lift it off in a cross formation. It was pointless. Disappointment and resignation was already seeping into his veins - maybe he wasn’t good enough to be king. Maybe, just maybe, his Kingdom would be better off without him.

And then a familiar flash of amber froze time around him.

A pale face stood out from the crowd directly across from him, a bright star amidst inky darkness.

Only one man was that pale.

It was Hoseok. He  _ had _ come. Stood, draped in the violet Hanbok, lavender hat framing his beautifully sculpted face and silk pulling tight around the gentle curve of his waist. There was fear in his orange eyes lit by the lanterns lining the arena. Fear and.. and something else.

Belief.

Hoseok believed in him. Hidden beneath the high bridged nose, moulded cheekbones, stretched upper lip and ears that cast their own shadow lay an expression of complete and utter trust. Of understanding. Of love.

Hyunwoo’s aching muscles, droplets of sweat and burning lungs were nothing when compared to the beauty of the man he loved.

The man he loved.

Somehow the realisation was enough. Hyunwoo remembered the echoed words Hoseok had whispered moments from his lips, saw the flicker of desire wavering behind sunset eyes, and suddenly time began when his heart began to beat once again.

_ “Pretend you’re fighting me.” _

Hyunwoo did just that.

The surprise of retaliation was evident on Lim’s face when Hyunwoo forced back his blow and elegantly spun from beneath his stumble. With the crowd roaring in his ears at the unexpected twist, Hyunwoo did his best to dance each attack thrown his way as his opponent grew more and more frustrated by Hyunwoo’s defence.

Until, all of a sudden, Hyunwoo lunged forward and struck him on the head.

It had been during a lapse of his challenger's attention. Distracted by the very idea that Hyunwoo could outsmart him he had pressed forward one too many times, dropped his arms to an improper position in an attempt to disarm the Prince.

The Prince was one step ahead and soon Lim Sisheng was on his knees with his stick laying alone in the sand.

Hyunwoo had done it.

Hyunwoo had won.

He had proven himself.

The disbelief was insurmountable. Stood panting in total surprise he let the din of the audience wash over his burning muscles and settle deep in his bones. Not a single part of his mind could comprehend the fact that the years of training, of countless hours and bruises and occasional collapses was finally over. He had done it. He was worthy to be King.

And yet, despite all that, despite his father bowing at him from atop the steps, despite the sound of the gong and cheers of the crowd and the legendary Lim Sisheng offering him his loyalty, Hyunwoo found himself floating far above the noise as his eyes landed on Hoseok stood by the pillar of light.

He was smiling. Ever so slightly, eyes flickering with something unknown, arms folded neatly behind his back and posture straighter than ever before. As Hyunwoo watched, spellbound, captivated by his ethereal nature, Hoseok turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd.

After waving the elders off distractedly and detaching himself from those who offered him congratulations Hyunwoo began weaving himself through the crowd now littering the steps as he followed the subtle flashes of untied hair and violet robes.

“You have made me proud son,” His father’s voice seemed to come from nowhere and suddenly his elderly face was directly in front of the frantic Prince. “Please, stay and enjoy the ceremony. You have spent a long while preparing for tonight.”

“Thank you father, but I wish to return to my room alone,” Hyunwoo steaded his calming breath to focus his eyes back on his parent before offering a small bow. “I am tired and want some time alone.”

“I cannot stop you now, we are equals,” his father chuckled and gestured with a wrinkled hand. “Please. Go. I will inform the company of your departure.”

The Prince did not wait to be told twice. In a flurry of his Royal Hanbok, he spun on his heel, ducked away from his attendants and hurried inside the wooden doorway.

When Hyunwoo finally reached the complex corridors of the palace the roar of the crowd was muffled by the wooden walls. The halls were deserted of people for they were all attending the celebration and so the Prince found himself exploring the ghost-like rooms as if he was looking for something that was not real.

Eventually he reached the arched door to his quarters, the wood glossed over with bamboo skin and carved in lotus flowers that stretched to the sky.

A beat passed where he steeled himself, blood racing, heart pounding, before he stepped into his own room and let the door close behind him.

Hoseok was stood in the centre with his broad back towards the door. Fish made of light swam in circles in front of him and cast a shifting halo of light around his form.

Hoseok dressed in traditional cloth made Hyunwoo’s heart skip a beat. Enthralled, his wide eyes took in the delicate hanbok that fell elegantly to the floor above purple baji, the royal sash glittering with golden embroidery from where it was tied neatly around his waist and his sandals shimmering in the holographic light.

Down his back fell long black hair that cascaded over his shoulders in a silky wave of soot. It was strange to see such things.

Hoseok was beautiful.

Ethereal. Unreal. A tingle started deep in Hyunwoo’s gut and made his hands shake from where they hung in awe by his side.

When the boy from the future finally turned around Hyunwoo swore he was dreaming of beauty not of this world. Slowly but surely he approached, each footstep a soft breath of air on the floor, eyes burning holes into each other.

“I didn't think you'd come,” Hyunwoo breathed.

A beat passed. The boys' eyes were equally as enthralled as they were pained.

“You were amazing out there,” Hoseok said gently. The pretty blush painting his cheeks grew hazy around the edges of the firelit room. Music and cheers drifted along the wind in the distance. “The way you fight… it is no wonder they give you that nickname.”  


“What nickname?” Hyunwoo asked quietly, as if afraid to scare the beautiful boy away.

“The Great King.”

Standing there, a foot between them, Hoseok in traditional dress smelling of lilies and burnt metal, Hyunwoo realised he did not particularly care about his future. It seemed silly to worry over such things when his entire world was stood in front of him.

There was no future without Hoseok. That was the only thing he knew.

“Tell me, boy from the future,” Hyunwoo reached out to twist a lock of the long hair Hoseok hair around his finger. It was as silky as he had imagined and framed Hoseok's wide amber eyes like the contrast of the midnight sky and sparkling stars. “Am I a great King? Is that what is written in the scrolls?”

“You are the best King,” Hoseok replied. “The best of them all.”

No more words needed to be said.

When their lips met, it was everything.

At first gentle and soft, Hyunwoo stood rigidly and his lips didn’t move, frozen with nerves and the wish to savour every lasting moment. He had not expected the boy from the future to be so bold when he pushed himself up on tiptoes and connected their lips. He had expected such things to come at a time of a momentary lapse in his self-control when they were both alone in their training room and the sun was heavy on their heads. 

Hyunwoo had never kissed somebody before and it was a little overwhelming. Lips against his own were strangely firm and caused his eyes to flicker shut. When Hoseok slid his robed arms up to hold his shoulders Hyunwoo finally had the courage to slip his calloused hands around his waist and pull him a little closer. Colours bloomed behind his eyes and threaded their way through his body in flashes of red and yellow and blue and purple and everything in between.

Hoseok opened his mouth and Hyunwoo followed suit, a little confused by the action at first, but then he felt a tongue swipe over his lips and it lit a fire deep inside him. The flames licked up his body as he deepened the kiss, chest moving in tandem with the pressure he applied. Hoseok’s lips were soft but firm with little give, calming to test and weight against.

They were perfect.

It was perfect.

Hoseok tasted like peach and sunlight and springtime. He felt like everything good, everything soft and knowing and kind. Under Hyunwoo’s hands his silk robes smoothed as he went from outlining his waist to holding it close, savouring every contact of their skin and the tracking of Hoseok’s hands up his neck until they were holding just under his knotted hair and trailing shivers down his spine.

It was like the energy stored under his skin had risen to the surface and was lighting it up into a thousand pinpricks of light.

For a second Hyunwoo's mind grasped at his memories trying to remember the word Hoseok had taught him.

Electricity. 

Kissing was like Electricity.

Hoseok sighed into the kiss and when they broke apart he was smiling.

Hyunwoo barely pulled away. With his mind spinning and body weightless with lightheaded disbelief it was almost impossible and some small part of him feared their discovery. However, the moment he locked his gaze on Hoseok’s amber eyes with their pupils blown wide and heard the small hitch of his breath, none of that seemed to matter anymore.

Hoseok was so beautiful. The Prince found himself mesmerised by such smooth marble skin as he stroked the other boy’s cheek. Did he really exist? Was he merely dreaming?

“I knew you could do it, Poddie,” Hoseok’s hoarse voice interrupted his thoughts and his lips were a pretty swollen pink in the firelight.

“You cannot call me that anymore,” Hyuwnoo smiled weakly, a little shaky in the knees from how close they were pressed against each other, how scandalous the quiet room seemed. “I shall be king now. It is disrespect.”

“There are no rules like that where I’m from,” said the boy from the future.

Hyunwoo paused.

“Are there rules about men kissing men, in the future where you’re from?” He asked quietly.

Hoseok shook his head. “No. You can kiss who you want, so long as the other says yes.”

“Yes,” Hyunwoo said without hesitation. “Yes. Yes. Yes, please.”

Hoseok laughed. A wave of emotion washed over the Prince at the familiar white teeth and gummy smile and crescents moon eyes and then the man was leaning in and catching his lips in a kiss once again.

This time they did not stop.

It was never frantic. Never rushed, never hurried. Passionate but slow, as if they had all the time in the world. As if Hoseok could not only travel through time but pause the sunrise so they could lay together forever. Hyunwoo supposed he had expected this event to be on the same night as his wedding. For him to take some foreign Princess in his arms and kiss her with as much uncertainty as was held in his heart.

As it was, the boy from the future seemed to ease any premonition the Prince had. He felt safe in his strong arms, felt lucky to be the one to unthread his perfectly tied belt, felt overwhelmed by the feelings that came from Hoseok’s hands on his body. It was a type of dance Hyunwoo had never been taught on the fighter mats. A dance of lovers.

Hoseok seemed to know his way around a body much like Hyunwoo knew his way around a fight. For once the Prince was the one who needed to learn and Hoseok was the one to teach.

Hoseok sat on top of him as he traced along the milky skin flickering orange with wonder in his eyes. He was muscular but deceivingly small in frame. The angry red mound of skin twisting and healing above his heart was a painful reminder of how close to death he’d been, and Hyunwoo felt heartache looking at the scars laced along his arms and the few on his stomach.

The future seemed like the worst place in the world.

“You’re beautiful, Hyunwoo.”

The Prince flushed and retracted his hand. Never in his life had he been called beautiful. He had not expected it to be said so reverently and it caused heat to flood his cheeks.

Hoseok leaned in and closed the gap between their bodies. Clammy heat radiated between them as the boy with purple hair now exposed - wig long thrown to the side - grasped as his shoulders nervously. “You can touch me,” he said quietly. “If you want.”

“Yes,” Hyunwoo choked out. The only word he still knew how to say.

And so he touched him.

The future seemed like the worst place in the world, but at least it gave him the soft sound of Hoseok’s whines in his ear and the hot feeling of skin against his own.

Nobody was allowed to touch the Prince like Hoseok touched him.

However, Hyunwoo was no Crown Prince with the boy from the future mapping out every inch of his body. Hyunwoo was simply Hyunwoo. Hyunwoo found himself to be entirely made of everything Hoseok made him feel with his knowledge of this dance of sweaty bodies. Hyunwoo, for that moment and every single moment in the future, believed his heart belonged to the pale boy who taught him what it meant to love.

Hyunwoo fell asleep that night with the miracle of Hoseok snuggled into his back and their legs entwined above thin sheets. The open window filled the hanok with the drifting sound of cicadas and the scent of lilies and bubbling freshwater dew with the glow of the stars dancing across the silk hanboks thrown to the side of the bed.

The soft snoring of the boy with purple hair made the Prince smile and he felt safe in his arms.

When he next opened his eyes the bed was cold. 

For a moment the Prince panicked. Springing from his bed with an outstretched hand, the man opened his mouth to cry out, confused at his lack of clothing and why his room was still dark with the early hours of morning, but then the shadow in front of him moved.

It was Hoseok donning his old clothes. He tightened a rough belt around his waist before clicking strange things on his sleeves and looping the harnesses across the tight undershirt hugging his body.

The body Hyunwoo had touched all night long.

The memories of the night before caused splotchy heat to blossom across his bare chest and crawl up his face and throat. There was a vague ache at the bottom of his spine and the thin blanket was soiled where it lay bundled in the corner.

“What are you doing?” he asked the other, groggy in sleep as he rubbed at his sore eyes. 

The boy from the future did not acknowledge him, merely lifted his strange baji to show the beeping watch looped around his ankle.

“Oh,” The Crown Prince breathed. Was it really time for him to leave already? Hyunwoo watched him flick two switches on a rectangular black box in his hand before slipping it into a holder slung across his hip. “What’s that?” he asked hoarsely.

“A gun.” Hoseok said quietly.

Hyunwoo frowned and looked at the cold metal thing resting in the holder. It was black and matte and seemed to suck the warmth out of the air around it.

Why would Hoseok carry around the thing that had hurt him before?

Was he about to hurt somebody else?

“Why do you need a gun?” he asked.

Hoseok did not answer.

The watch rang again.

Hyunwoo was embarrassed when stood up to wrap a loose hanbok around his frame and tighten the cord belt. His whole body ached but he enjoyed the feeling.

“Must you leave?” Hyunwoo asked. Vulnerability slipped into his voice without thinking and stained the question with fear.

Hoseok hesitated.

“I don’t want to go,” he murmured. His broad shoulders seemed infinitely smaller in that moment and Hyunwoo ached to hold him.

“Then don’t.” The Prince stepped forward. “Don’t go.”

“I can’t just not go.”

A beat passed.

“Marry me.”

“What?” Hoseok looked up in shock.

Hyunwoo looked at his wide almond eyes with panicked certainty. The moment he said it, the clearer the solution came. Hoseok just had to marry him and then he would never have to return home

“Marry me,” He repeated, taking another step forward and grasping the other man's hands. “Tomorrow. I have proven myself as a ruler. I can command the ceremony for next morn.”

“My tomorrow is not the same as yours, Hyunwoo,” Hoseok said dismally.

“But we can make it so. If you stay, our days will be the same.” Hyunwoo insisted. “You would not have to return to that wretched place for the rest of your life. You would be here with me, safe and fed and happy.”

“That’s really not how it works.”

“Why not?” Hyunwoo’s voice grew louder in frustration. “Why can you not just stay? Why must the rules of time be obeyed when you break most of them anyway?” The Prince squeezed his hands with tears in his eyes. “Stay. Stay with me and you will be the most beautiful man Korea has ever known. Your features will be described for centuries to come. I will be the first man to take another as his husband. I do not care for rules anymore. Why should you?”

The boy with purple hair did not say anything but his fragile eyes held all the pain in the world.

“Please,” Hyunwoo’s voice cracked as he pleaded one last time. “Marry me.”

Silence.

“Okay,” Hoseok breathed.

Hyunwoo frowned. “Okay?”

“Okay. I’ll marry you.” A telltale smile teased his lips and he squeezed the Prince’s hands in his own. “I’ll talk to Chae. Tell him I wish to give up my watch in return for a one way trip to you.”

Overwhelming hope flooded the elder's system. Hoseok would stay with him? Hoseok would marry him? There was so much to prepare - he must teach the other boy historic etiquette - must provide him with enough garments so as to hide his true identity -

“I’ll return to my time for only a week to set everything in order, okay?” Hoseok smiled reassuringly. The expression didn't meet his eyes. “Chae will need to reset my time graph because I stayed overnight and I should.. say bye to the people I know, you know? If I’m never going back.”

“Must you really leave again? Do you promise you’ll come back?” Hyunwoo asked, panicked. “You are not allowed to get hurt again. I forbid it.”

Hoseok laughed that sunshine laugh and shook his head. “Promise I’ll come back in one piece, yeah? Next week in our training room I’ll be there at midday, just like always.”

A pause. Hoseok inhaled until it seemed as if his lungs could not stretch any wider and Hyunwoo watched him speak with a frown.

“Wait for me,” he said softly, rubbing his knuckles with his thumb. “Wait for me no matter what happens.”

“Of course I will. I always do.” Hyunwoo replied, perplexed.

“No, Hyunwoo, please.” The boy from the future looked up at him. With his eyes so wide they should have echoed innocence and yet it pierced uncertainty deep into the Prince’s heart upon finding them echoing with all the pain of the thousand years between them. “Promise you’ll wait. Always.”

“I promise.” Hyunwoo offered a worried smile. “And I never break my promises.”

“I know,” Hoseok laughed softly and hung his head. 

There was a moment just between them in which the Prince knew they were thinking the same thing. Of the tiny chip of two Koi fish, which Hyunwoo had sewn close to his heart for seven whole years as he waited for the boy to return.

Then the light of the dark hanok seemed to bend around his frame and Hoseok disappeared into thin air.

Hyunwoo’s arms felt cold without him.

The next week crawled on infant limbs almost as slow as seven years of waiting.

It seemed the entire world had been holding its breath for Hyunwoo to prove himself as a suitable heir before crashing down around him. The Silikha district had attempted an invasion on the Northern border, the townspeople were in riot over a serious of market vendors that had scammed them out of many gold, and to make it perhaps the worst week of Hyunwoo’s life, his father had fallen suddenly ill and could not get out of bed.

Hyunwoo had yet to be crowned King but it already felt as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

And yet, much like when he was a young boy, he found himself inherently distracted by pretty things. As the sun rose in the East and shed light on the troops he commanded to the borders, he thought of amber eyes that sparkled in the weak morning sun. As it hovered in the sky and burned his head despite the parasol shading his skin while he hurried to a meeting with elders, he thought of the training room in the peak of summer with two bodies dripping sweat onto wooden floors. When the sun had slipped below the horizon in rest and left the cold press of damp night heavy on his heart as he tended to his father's bedside, he thought of pale skin held in his hands all of the night gone by as if time had frozen just for them.

It would be alright when Hoseok returned, Hyunwoo told himself as his attendants undressed him in the evening. When the Prince laid his eyes upon the smile he called home and listened to each teasing insult laced with affection then perhaps his problems would disappear like smoke from a burning pyre. They would marry. Hoseok would be safe.

It would not be that simple.

A week since Hoseok had spent the night in his bed without even robes between them the Crown Prince hurried from an important discussion with the Kings advisors of health to find the training room just before midday. 

Hyunwoo knelt in the familiar position. His limbs ached with tiredness and his mind stung with each problem he faced but none of that seemed to matter when he closed his eyes and exhaled. He would see Hoseok. Hoseok would finally stay.

Hoseok did not come.

Hyunwoo opened his eyes in confusion after what seemed like a few moments. The sun was at its highest point in the sky - so where was the man who had promised to be there? Hoseok was never late. It was the same time every week. It had to be for it was the only hour the time channel opened.

Still, Hoseok did not come.

Hyunwoo waited with dread settling deep in his core. His bones felt heavy with worry. If something had happened to the boy from the future he would never forgive himself. Had the men with Guns finally shot him down? Had he been captured, his watch taken? Had he simply ran out of food?

Did he just not wish to marry Hyunwoo?

The Crown Prince's breath shuddered and he closed his eyes in desperation. Each thought that echoed in his mind willed the boy with purple hair to appear in a soft exhale and ease his trembling worries.

But Hoseok did not come.

Hyunwoo waited. He waited and he waited until his body grew leaden and he slipped into unconsciousness on the hot mat of the training room floor.

His attendants found him just as the sun had disappeared from the sky and left cold navy in its place. They hurried and fussed and some even seemed weak in the knees while they hauled the Crown Prince to his feet, tugging at his wrinkled robes, holding his forehead for any sign of a fever.

Hyunwoo did not have the energy to stop their worry as they inquired whether he was ill with his fathers disease too. 

Somehow he found himself alone in his room as three assistants hurriedly undressed him for bed.

“Please,” he breathed, stopping one of their fumbling hands with his own. “Leave me be.”

“But My Prince-”

“Please. You have served me well but you are all dismissed.”

The servants shared worried glances between themselves before offering a quick bow and scuttling from the room.

Alone, Hyunwoo knelt defeated by the table in the centre of his hanok.

The light contraption Hoseok had gifted him what seemed like aeons ago was now cold. No longer magic, the boy with purple hair had left him all alone.

Hyunwoo could not bring himself to watch the fish swim that night, not with worry already threatening to drown him.

The fish out of water were nothing without the promise of Hoseok by his side.

The next week Hyunwoo returned to the training room just as the sun reached the midpoint in the sky. He folded himself neatly onto the mat where he usually sat and waited, just like usual, for Hoseok to appear behind him. Worry had been eating away at his mind for seven days straight. If Hoseok had been caught because he had suggested staying the night, if the Prince was the one responsible for the man he loved being hurt in any way, he would never ever forgive himself.

The events he dreaded would not happen for another thousand years and yet it affected him  _ now. _

Hoseok did not come.

Hyunwoo waited until the sun had fallen by a quarter before he rose to his unsteady feet, smoothed down his robe, and left the training room with its memories of amber eyes echoing in his mind.

The next week he did the same, waiting in the silent training room with the airy sunlight filtering through the canopy and the only movement that of dust on his breath. He did not train. He did not practice. He just waited.

The Crown Prince waited, and yet Hoseok did not come.

Three more weeks went by and still he waited, longing for pale skin under his hands, breathless moments of pleasure caught in the comfort of his own bed, the sound of laughter or newfangled words or shouts on the fighting mat. His heart ached for Hoseok with a pain he did not understand. His father grew progressively ill in his bed, his attendants whispered between themselves of his weekly disappearance from schedule, and yet Hyunwoo could not focus on such things. It seemed he was driving himself insane. Spending his nights watching the fish swim around his dark room, spending his days searching each corner of his vision for a flash of familiar purple hair or startlingly pale skin.

The Prince wondered if this was what heartbreak truly was.

The hot summer drifted into rainy autumn and then bone-cold winter before the lilies began to bloom again. Weeks easily flew into months and then a whole year, when his twenty-first summer rolled around without Hoseok by his side.

His father had been dead since spring. His coronation was soon. He would be King.

And yet still, every week when the sun reached the highest point in the sky, Hyunwoo waited with the promise of marriage on his lips and love in his heart.

He waited, and he waited. 

Hoseok never came.


	8. centuries ago

Hoseok ran.

He did not have much time left.

Time as a tangible, physical resource that could and would run out if overused was a concept foreign to most who did not illegally travel through it. Hoseok, however, was all too familiar with the notion of time as a limited reserve, and as the purple haired boy dashed between wires, jumped one-room houses made from old boat cargo carriers and shuffled precariously over foot wide walkway planks connecting one shambled building to another, he was all too aware that time was running out.

As he scrambled across a holo walkway in a deserted part of the city - evacuated due to high pollution levels approximately three weeks ago - each step lit up in neon blues or greens through the floor sensors.

The air buzzed with electricity that made his hair stand on end and he cried out when the telltale sizzle of a laser gun barely missed his side and burnt a hole in the ground.

The boy ducked into an open window, pressed his back to the wall, and stood to catch his breath.

The watch on his wrist beeped and he looked down with frantic eyes, heaving body and trembling hands shaking with adrenaline.

_"The Time Channel will be open in approximately Ten Minutes. Please stand by."_

Hoseok squeezed his eyes shut. Sweat dripped down his dusty, charred face and his injured chest throbbed with an echo of burning pain. His cargo pants crinkled as he moved and the chain hit the wall with a clang.

Ten minutes.

He only had to make it ten minutes.

Forcing his eyes open, Hoseok found with a start that he was in the Korean Museum of Heritage - a place protected by the government for its key storage of historical artefacts, one of five of a network in the city.

Its corridors were hauntingly empty because of the evacuation.

He wasted no time pushing off the wall and running again. The corridors were made of metal slabs bolted together, derelict small walkways and neon lighting filtering from the blinding white rods above him did nothing to aid his escape. Signs blared at him from every corner - _Right for King Sunshin II, Left for the Military rule of the Jan dynasty -_ but Hoseok did not need them. He knew this place like the back of his hand. Had visited so many times with his hood drawn up and hands in his pockets he could find his way in the dark.

Hoseok ran and he did not stop. Over boxes, up railings to a second floor, ducking behind sparking circuits to catch his breath.

When Hoseok reached a dead end, he checked his watch in despair.

Five minutes.

The air built with electricity. The officials were close. He could hear the distant clang of their hauntingly synchronised running echoing through the museum halls.

The security lock glared at him under the dim lighting. It was a handprint scanner.  
  
Hoseok knew what to do.

He had spent his entire life working the system for his own benefit. One lock meant nothing to him.

Untwining the flat metal clip attached to his jacket, Hoseok pressed it into the key card scanner for the blue scanner. It clicked open and the boy wasted no time dragging out the draw, picking a handprint from one of the holographic storage chips, and scanning it with his replica holoscreen.

The machine beeped with a complete download and Hoseok grinned.

  
When he held up the screen to the hand scanner, it projected the handprint it had downloaded from the access drives onto the flashing blue grid.

The LED flickered green with accepted entry and the door clicked open.

Hoseok entered quickly, fumbling to push his illegal holoscreen into his inner jacket pocket while his aching body slammed the door behind him. A frantic look around led to him dragging across a cabinet from one display and barricading the door (which would do nothing in the face of the Officials, but made him feel slightly more secure.)

He glanced down at his watch.

Four minutes.

He only had to stay alive the next four minutes.

He had to do it for Hyunwoo.

Hoseok had made it through the past seven days on the run. When Hyunwoo had looked him in the eye and pleaded for him to stay just one night, the boy from the future had been unable to refuse.

He had told the Crown Prince that he had talked to Chae. That the action was safe. Authorized.

He had lied.

The moment Hoseok had chosen to stay past the allocated hour set by the time circuit the watch had stopped transmitting it’s safety wavelengths that disrupted connection signals. When Hoseok had returned to the future, the chip lodged in the back of his neck (placed within the CNS, so removal was impossible without instant paralysation) had connected to the system of the City.

He was online.

They could track him.

And they had. When Hoseok had returned to his own time after bidding farewell to his lover, he had approximately two hours before three armed Officials in their pressed suits and laserproof vests had incinerated his door and stormed the abandoned loft he called his home.

Hoseok had slipped out the window and ran.

He had been running ever since. Occasionally he took refuge in off-grid hideouts with other strays but they had still found him. Just the hour before he had been sleeping for the first time in three days when the alarms had flashed a violent red and he’d had to fight his way out once again.

Bongtoogi had taught him more than just dance. It had taught him survival.

Hoseok thought the biggest mistake he had made was the third visit. For the first two their meetings had only been chance, only been casual. Hoseok had all but forgotten their first encounter at twelve but the watch remembered. Chae had told him, back when Hoseok had been younger and was still learning how to travel, that occasionally the watch latched onto specific personal timelines. It was nothing to worry about.

But it had brought Hoseok’s end.

He had fallen for somebody he could not have and could never have. Every waking moment with Hyunwoo was pain, and yet, without him it was unbearable.

The boy from the future had watched from hidden behind old fighting props as the Crown Prince had fought with his trainer. Enthralled, he had gaped at his tan skin with droplets of sweat rolling down his neck, had been mesmerised by the determination on his handsome face as his Royal robes had whipped into a frenzy and his nimble body had danced across the mat.

It had only grown harder to be away. When Hyunwoo had held his waist and guided his arms gently, Hoseok’s heart had stuttered in his chest. When Hyunwoo’s sparkling eyes had crinkled into a shy smile when his silky hair fell about his handsome face, Hoseok had felt his lungs collapse. When Hyunwoo had looked him straight in the eye and asked him to marry him, the boy from the future could only say yes.

Hoseok could not breathe without the Crown Prince filling his chest with air. Time did not exist alone with him. The Officials, the rules, the codes and fear and hunger, none of them existed with Hyunwoo.

In the end, though, it was hopeless.

For Hoseok knew there was no way to change the past. The Great King never took a husband. The Great King died at the age of sixty, in the year 991, without anybody by his side.

Hoseok had never told him. Did not want to dampen their visits with his knowledge that Hyunwoo would never find a partner. Even as they had lay in bed together and Hoseok had realised his feelings the guilty thoughts did not leave him.

How could he promise to stay, when history said he would leave?

Hoseok’s exhausted body heaved while he attempted to catch his breath.

Three minutes.

It was then that Hoseok realised where he was.

He knew the room like the back of a holo-circuit.

The information panels blinked at him from their projections.

_"King Hyunwoo and his Early Life."_

_"King Hyunwoo and his Military Conquest of Southern Korea."_

The first two shimmered at their proximately.

_"King Hyunwoo and his Unification of the Three Districts of Korea and Southern China."_

_"King Hyunwoo and the Legend of Bongtoogi."_

The next hovered far away, accompanied by shifting displays of traditional Bongtoogi dress and a map of Korea in 981AD.

The last two blinked directly in front of him.

_"King Hyunwoo and the Impact of his Fathers Death."_

_"King Hyunwoo and Suspicions of Homosexuality."_

Hoseok always smiled at that one.

He had visited here more times than he could count with a hood over his head and hands in his pockets whenever he passed through the district. He liked to see the paintings of Hyunwoo despite only being holograms. It seemed fitting this would be the place he was finally caught.

Two minutes.

The thunderous sound of footsteps drew nearer. The lights flickered.

But then, Hoseok noticed something strange.

The main projector was blinking with a notification.

_"One new Artifact ready to view."_

The purple-haired boy stilled.

They had discovered something new? Was that even possible when Korea was industrialised beyond habitation?

His brow knit together as he stepped forward. The light keyboard flickered in front of him and he waved his hand over the sensor.

Impossible.

A disembodied female voice echoed from the embedded floor speakers. The metallic sound reverberated in the empty room and rose electrical goosebumps on his arm.

_"Information recovered 22:43, 24th August, 2048. Added to database: 13:43, 26th August, 2048, by the Historic University of Seoul and Greater Korea."_

Hoseok held his breath.

There had been more information added? Hoseok was dumbfounded - research was rare these days due to the crumbling economy. The Historic University of Seoul was the only place in the country where new data was actively encouraged.

What had they found on the Great King Hyunwoo? What more could there possibly be to know?

_One minute._

The door clanged.

Hoseok waved his hand over _"Hear More."_

The whirring sound of mechanics was heard and then a larger than life painting materialised in projection.

_"Upon recent excavation of the area surrounding King Hyunwoo's final resting place, a vase was found buried by his coffin, under three layers of protective enchantments. Two paintings concealed within the vase along with personal belongings including a purple comb. Finished on linen and boasting the familiar soft brushstrokes typical of the dynasty, they are clearly of the 10th Century style, and depict The King and a man stood side by side in Royal Garments-"_

Hoseok wasn't listening.

What he saw was impossible.

Impossible.

That was him.

That was Hoseok.

Hoseok stood next to Hyunwoo, every likeness captured in perfect detail. From his amber eyes to his stretched upper lip, straight eyebrows and pale skin, it seemed almost as if the painting was a photo frozen in time.

Hoseok’s hair tumbled down his robes in silky waves - not of black, but brown.

Their expressions were serene. Happy. Hoseok’s heart swelled at seeing the man he loved immortalised next to him.

The information kept rolling.

_" - much speculation has come from this discovery. Many assume this was the beautiful man Hyunwoo references in his letters around the time of his father's death. He is unnamed, but clearly wears the Royal sigil and a pendant of marriage around his neck-"_

Hoseok’s lungs collapsed and his throat closed up.

His eyes flickered to the projected folds of fabric.

There, nestled amongst the royal blue and flower embroidery, was a pearl pendant that glittered with gold metalwork.

The pendant of marriage.

He had never seen it before. Hyunwoo had never given it to him.

So why was he wearing it in a painting from a thousand years ago?

_Ten seconds._

The door to the exhibition exploded inwards. Heat seared Hoseok’s back and debris scattered across the pristine floor. Somewhere Hoseok swore he could hear the siren blaring and his vision stained red with the alarm.

But Hoseok did not care.

He was laughing when they took him. Laughing when they wrestled him to the ground, laughing when they tore the watch from his wrist, laughing when they held a laser gun to his head and told him to submit to the system.

Because Hoseok had a marriage pendant and his hair was painted brown.

Hyunwoo did not know his hair was naturally brown. When the Crown Prince had left a wig of inky black hair on the mat of the training room floor, Hoseok had smiled to himself, because the colour was far too dark for the chestnut roots that grew underneath his purple.

The only way he could be painted with brown hair is if he somehow found his way back.

As if he was somehow with Hyunwoo until his bronzed hair grew to reach his waist and a pendant of marriage could be nestled amongst his robes.

Hoseok had believed for so many months that he and Hyunwoo would never be together. It was not in the history books so therefore could not be true.

Except now he realised - he would find his way back to Hyunwoo. He had to, no matter how long it took.

He hoped Hyunwoo would wait for him. He hoped with his whole heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hyunwoo and hoseok find each other, sometime in the future or past.
> 
> hoseok never beats hyunwoo at bongtoogi again, but he does not mind in the slightest.
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> -x-
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>  
> 
> to all those that followed this, thank you! this is the only fic i never promoted on twitter or really told people about. it's my own little secret. i began writing this in march at a bad point in my life with both mental and physical health and the earlier chapters mean so so much to me. to finally have it ending feels strange but also satisfying. this is and probably always will be the fic i treasure the most and so, if you made it this far, thanks for loving what i do too :')
> 
> how and when hoseok finds hyunwoo again is up to you, but they do find each other. hyunwoo never stopped waiting.


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